Dysfunctional Purebloods
by MelasMelos
Summary: All is calm to those who gaze upon the life of Purebloods. They are to envied and lusted after, clearly superior. But all is not well when you delve deeper into their culture. Old rivalries will be resurfaced, and new ones will be made apparent. It's truly, all one, chaotic and deadly mess. (ETERNAL HIATUS)
1. The Betrothal

August 1, 1802

Althaea stood alone as she observed her family tree, her eyes fixated on the golden vine flowers that represented all proper purebloods and the names that were embroidered in silver beneath them. She vaguely traced her own name on the tapestry.

Althaea Achillea Melifua.

A voice jolted her out of her reverie.

"I'm impressed, sister," a quiet, calm voice murmured from the doorway. His footsteps were silent and he had long, graceful strides for he was by Althaea's side less than a moment from speaking. Althaea waited for him to elaborate.

"For you to have acquired yourself a fiancé and you both haven't even left Hogwarts..," he trailed off as his gaze followed his younger sister's. His eyes fell on her nimble fingers and the name that she was tracing. They had crept onto the golden flower whose vine was attached to hers.

Septimus Lucifer Malfoy.

"You're worried."

He said it bluntly, a statement. Her hand fell away from the flower and to her side. Her eyes stung with the tears of uncertainty and a bit of shame. She didn't trust her voice, so she simply nodded and tucked a strand of her black hair behind her ear. His expression softened.

"Septimus will treat you well, you know, there isn't anything to be worried about," he said softly, placing his hand on her shoulder. She bit her lip uncertainly.

"I'm not worried about that," she said, her voice barely above a whisper and her voice shaking. Before her brother could respond she had turned, shrugging off his hand, and ran, her dress flowing around her.

Althaea went to her room, hurriedly pulling out her wand and casting several rushed privacy charms before pulling back the curtains on her bed and falling down onto it. She desperately tried to keep control of her muddled emotions, ignoring the single cold tear that ran down her cheek.

Narcissus wouldn't ever understand. No matter how hard he tried to, he would never understand. Neither would Eve and Amphitrite, no matter how hard they tried. They might understand when they themselves got betrothed, which Althaea was sure wouldn't take long, and only then might they feel her insecurities.

She focused hard on not thinking about anything, and she looked up to stare out the window. The day was dreary, dark and stormy. She sighed heavily, looking out at the huge expanse of forest that surrounded the property. She numbly got up and waved her wand to straighten her bed and dress before walking to the window.

She had always gotten chills up her arms when she looked out at the great height her room was at in the mansion. Today was no different, for goosebumps crawled up her sleeved arms. It was eerie, to look out at the pristinely cut green grass and the herd of Abraxan horses at the edge of the forest knowing just how high up you were.

She briefly wondered if hers and Septimus' room would be upstairs like this.

Most bedrooms were. When you were a pureblood with a whole fortune of money at your fingertips, one family might have several mansions scattered around the wizarding countries. When you lived in a mansion, most of the more "strictly family" rooms were upstairs, and things like ballrooms and the sort were all downstairs.

Althaea moved away from her window and was randomly overtaken by another bout of dread and fear. She closed her hands into fists, her fingernails digging into her immaculate, porcelain skin. Another tear escaped from her eyes and she wiped them furiously with the back of her hand. Pureblood women shouldn't cry over such pathetic issues.

There was a knock on her door. "May I come in Althaea?" It was her mother. Althaea gathered her wits and took a deep breath.

"Yes Mother," she replied, doing her best to sound cheerful and uplifted. She turned back to the window so her Mother couldn't see her face.

Her Mother came in, gently closing the door behind her. "It's normal to have insecurities, you know. Although I can't pretend I'm not a slight bit disappointed. What are you so upset about?" Achillea said this all in a bit of tone of incredulity. Althaea didn't turn around.

"Nothing Mother," Althaea said shortly and simply. Her gaze moved to stare out into the forest as a brief silence stretched into almost a full minute. She could feel her mother's gaze boring into the back of her head.

"You should be overjoyed to have secured yourself into such a profitable marriage with the Malfoys. Such a prestigious family! Although, I guess it wasn't such a surprise. With beauty like yours, you were bound to get some attention. You know, even the Gaunts reached out to us to assign a marriage, even with their strange obsession with marrying cousins. Then the…" Achillea's voice faded into background noise as Althaea got lost in her thoughts. She would get to see Septimus soon; it was around a week until school started again.

"Althaea!" Achillea snapped and jerked Althaea out of her reverie. "Yes Mother?" Althaea asked, doing her best to sound as though she had been listening. She turned in time to hear and see her mother angrily huff and fling the door open wandlessly and storm out in long, graceful strides. Althaea bit her lip guiltily. Oops.

Althaea winced as the door slammed, the sound echoing throughout the hallway. She sighed heavily and walked towards her bed and sat down, summoning a book and staring at the pages unseeingly and lost in thought, trying not to think about her troubles.

 **Author's Note**

 **I hope you liked this first chapter! In this story I'm going to try and includes as many Pureblood families as I can, so there's going to be a lot of characters. I** **am going to try and focus on a particular set of characters though, but venture into others at times. This is my first HP story, and technically speaking first story on this site. Please review and tell me what you think about this! Constructive Criticism is welcome.**

 **Also, I have this story on Hogwarts is Here, Xanje (I wouldn't suggest looking it up on Xanje, that's more of a starter thing. XD), and I might put this on some other site, I'm not sure. Anyways, bye!**


	2. Suspicious Activity

August 5, 1802

Amphitrite walked down the busy roads of Diagon Alley, her eyes darting from side to side, looking for one certain person…

Sarah Wood was looking into a display of new dress robes, her expression dreamy. Amphitrite's lips curled into a sneer, her eyes narrowing. She tugged her brother, Constantine towards the muggleborn. Amphitrite's steps were confident and quick as she strode towards the Gryffindor, her older brother at her side.

"Wish you had that much money, don't you Mudblood?" Amphitrite asked, Constantine snickering as he crossed his arms. Sarah Wood turned on her heel and narrowed her eyes menacingly.

"In all honesty, these robes would be fit for only a Mudblood to wear, they're absolutely ghastly," Constantine added as he eyed the robes in disgust. Sarah flushed red and balled her hands into fists, her eyes lit up with fire.

"And what would you know?" Sarah spit out lamely, Amphitrite and Constantine both laughed, looking at each-other before shaking their heads in mock disappointment. "You nasty people, you don't have anything better to do that mock other people!" She exclaimed in a rush of air.

"You should consider yourself lucky that we even gave some of our time and attention," Amphitrite drawled, a smirk on her lips. "Mudblood," Constantine added sneering, and Sarah lunged, the pair sidestepping so she went right between them and fell on the dusty cobblestones.

"Look at this! A Mudblood in her rightful place-" Constantine yelled mirthfully, drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity, several pureblood families laughing and snickering at the jeer. "-at the feet of Purebloods!" Amphitrite finished just as loudly, renewed laughter ringing through the crowd.

Sarah's face burning with shame; she scrambled to her feet, rushing of in the opposite direction, trying the hide the tears that ran down her face. The crowd was roaring with laughter now, and the pair both laughed mirthfully.

A woman in a yellow dress and lighter yellow corset glided towards them gracefully. Her white hair was up in a chignon, an eyebrow was raised. "Straighten up, stop leaning on each other like a pair of cripples," She chastised, snapping her fingers at them. By now everyone had returned to their own business.

The two stood up straighter immediately and Hera fixed her eyes on Constantine. "Weren't you supposed to be doing something?" she drawled, motioning towards where she had seen Aludra Black vanish into Knockturn Alley. Constantine blinked in realization, blushing in embarrassment.

"Too late now, perhaps another day we can get in touch with your cousin and ask about the marriage," Hera sighed, now looking at Amphitrite. "I have your books, we already bought you a new cauldron, a new uniform, now we need to get to the Apothecary, yes?" Hera asked, handing Amphitrite the list.

"I can take her to get the rest of her school supplies Mother if you wish," Constantine piped up, eager to make up for his mistake in not catching Aludra Black's attention. Hera made another exasperated sigh and waved vaguely towards Alyss's Apothecary. Constantine took this as an okay, and grasped his sister's wrist in his own.

The pair walked off, and Hera disappeared into the jewelry store. Amphitrite looked up at her brother quizzically.

"What do you need from the Apothecary?" she asked, a smile tugging at her lips. Constantine stared ahead, slipping into the shop with his sister right behind him. He pulled off all the supplies Amphitrite would need, and thrust them into her arms. She hastily held on to them, scared she might drop them.

"I need dragon blood and vampire blood," he said at last, casting gaze around the shelves, eyes narrowed. Amphitrite's expression became worried, and she bit her lip. He plucked a long, skinny bottle of vampire blood off of the shelf, fingering the wax seal on the cork.

"Brother, what are doing?" she asked, her voice full of concern as he now plucked off a shorter, but still thin, bottle of vampire blood, fingering the engraved runes on the bottle. These two ingredients could be used for both innocent and dark potions, but knowing her brother she assumed the latter. He said nothing, and after a few long moments he looked at his sister, staring her in the eye.

"Ignorance is bliss," he said simply, and a weird feeling of dread settled in her stomach. They paid and said nothing else to each other as they bought all of Amphitrite's other school supplies, and when they met Hera back at the Leaky Cauldron, she didn't remark on their sudden silence, only raising a perfect eyebrow and sighing, summoning their house-elf and being apparated back to their manor. She didn't have anything to complain about, besides, it was better for her if they were quiet.

Amphitrite though about what her brother had meant when he had said that. Something illegal, of course, but even if had been illegal he wouldn't have had to hide it from Mother. _I just hope it doesn't jeopardize our reputation_. and on that uneasy thought she flicked her wand and turned off the light in her room for the night.

 **Author's Note**

 **Lookie here! A few new characters to keep track of. XD They're utter jerks, aren't they? Anyways, I just want to thank the people who seem to be enjoying this story so far! I'm so excited that someone likes it. I thought I should probably tell you the update schedule; as for now I'm just kind of beginning so-to-speak, so updates will be once a week on Fridays. Maybe I'll make it to twice a week! Once again, thank you to those who are reading my story! Constructive Criticism welcome, flames are not.**

 **Bye!**


	3. Dark Alleys and Corners

**Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter what-so-ever. Also, there's a bit of gore in this one.**

August 5, 1802

Aludra Black slipped into Knockturn Alley, taking advantage of the distraction the Parkinson siblings provided when taunting the Mudblood. She strode down the dark, grimy alley way with purpose, sliding a wand from the sleeve of her pitch black dress. It was a shame Constantine couldn't accompany her to Knockturn Alley today. At least he was making himself useful with getting the supplies they would need for Aludra's next… _experiment._

She glanced from side to side, giving a man who was talking excitedly to the wall a wide berth, a controlled look of disgust on her face towards the man. She turned a corner, completely ignoring Carrow's Concoctions and the pair of little girls who seemed to be brewing a potion from dead bugs outside of the shop. The two little girls would undoubtedly be dead or disfigured by the end of the week, Aludra thought, for children didn't last long in the darkness of the alley.

Aludra walked faster, her eyes darting from side to side again, entirely alert. She pulled her hood further over her head. It wouldn't do her any good to be seen in Knockturn Alley.

A flash of blonde caught her attention, and she froze, her heart beating in her chest.

 _Holy Morrigan please have it not be Lord Malfoy._ She thought desperately. Running into Lord Malfoy would not do her any good; after all, he was a suspicious man and would certainly ask questions. Aludra hated questions.

It was not Lord Malfoy, but rather his son. Septimus Malfoy, walking out of the Funeral Pyre, looking like a god in the depressing setting of Knockturn Alley, had appeared. He wasn't alone. Romulus Lestrange and Silvanus Rowle accompanied him, the pair looking somewhat bland in comparison to their gorgeous friend, or more accurately, leader. Aludra decided to reveal herself, for it wouldn't be beneficial to be seen looking dodgier than normal. She turned out from the corner and pulled down her hood, releasing her wild, tousled curls. She herself looked rather beautiful in the setting, looking like she had emerged from the shadows and materialized from thin air. Romulus looked unpleasantly surprised at her appearance, but quickly smoothed his features into a blank mask, the fringe of his dark brown and wavy hair falling into his eyes before he effortlessly tossed it out of his face with a flick of his head.

"Hello, Silvanus," Aludra said slyly as she stopped, resting her hands on her hips, lifting her chin. Silvanus had the trademark, shining white hair of a Rowle. Unlike the color of an elderly person, his hair looked bright and pure instead of old and faded. His hair was simply a few shades from Septimus' platinum blond, a difference not easily distinguished. Silvanus was older than Aludra, and in terms of common sense she should have respected him. Aludra, though, only held respect for those who she thought had earned it, and Silvanus was not one of these people.

The trio stopped in their tracks, and Septimus stepped to the side with Romulus, giving Silvanus an unobstructed view of the smirking Aludra. Silvanus smirked as well, looking Aludra up and down, looking entirely calm. The faint light from a dying torch on the wall of the Funeral Pyre threw Silvanus' features into a harsh perspective, as well as Aludra's, making each other's expressions considerably hard to read. Aludra hadn't missed his slight shift towards the torch where this effect would happen. Luckily, she had already been in a position like this when she had revealed herself from around the corner.

"Good day, Madame Black, or do you prefer Parkinson?" he asked and give the smallest bow. As Aludra held out her hand for Silvanus to kiss, her other hand twitched in the direction of her wand. What Silvanus said sounded polite enough, but she knew that Silvanus was teasing her. It was a theory that she had to marry her cousin because of her sharp and unhinged nature, even in the presence of adults, and that no one wanted to associate themselves with an unstable woman. Aludra didn't bother with a curtsy, or answer his question.

"Don't test me, Rowle," Aludra said, quietly, a certain tone of danger hung around her words. Silvanus straightened up and took a step back in a respectful manner. Septimus, perhaps sensing that if Silvanus said anything else, that Aludra would subject the lot of them to a Cruciatus Curse. This wasn't simply a precaution, either, for it was something that Aludra might very well do.

"I mean no offense to your honor, Lady Parkinson," Septimus said, and Aludra noticed with amusement how he didn't include all of them, and on a second note she held a slight bit of appreciation over the way he addressed her. Despite the fact that she hadn't yet married Constantine and gained the title of Lady Parkinson, he had given her a semblance of power and status with the title.

"I understand," she said, although her tone of voice suggested that she wouldn't let the insult by without avenging it. Septimus then turned and looked at all of them (she noticed that he gave Silvanus a particularly pointed look) and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Now, why don't we all go on our merry ways and continue with our day. How does that sound?" Septimus said this all in a very final tone, so that even Aludra couldn't find a way to escalate the situation. Romulus, she noticed, seemed a bit partial to the idea, for he had already shifted towards the direction of _leaving._ Silvanus quickly picked up the tone of finality, and he nodded respectfully to Aludra, a funny little smile on his face.

"That sounds wonderful," Aludra said, now forcing a soft smile on her face.

"Have a good day, Miss Black," Silvanus said, and she barely missed the look of agitation on Septimus' face.

 _He must feel that Rowle took the lead in this interaction. Not a surprise, Septimus always was a bit of a control freak._ Aludra thought, but the information wouldn't be of much use to her. She let herself forget about it.

She didn't answer Silvanus, but she did acknowledge the courteous nod from Septimus. As Romulus passed she stuck her arm of her cloak with the surprising speed and grasped onto his elbow, leaning in towards his ear.

"You fear me, don't you?" She whispered, barely audible, and then, smirking, she released him and walked off. Relishing in the expression of surprise that had flashed in his eyes, she felt a new bounce in her step.

 _Septimus Malfoy_

Once Aludra had walked a good ten yards from them and turned another corner, cloak billowing out from behind her as she walked, Septimus rounded upon Silvanus, eyes flashing.

"What was that?" He hissed, his silver eyes flashing with clear anger. Silvanus looked taken aback for a moment.

"Excuse me?" His voice was infuriatingly innocent, and Septimus took a moment to calm himself. Romulus looked at Silvanus, a strange look on his face.

"You must have a deathwish," he said incredulously, crossing his arms. Septimus seemed to agree, but Silvanus shrugged rather carelessly.

"It's only Aludra Black, what's the worst she can do? She can't exactly kill me, can she?" Silvanus began to walk away, leaving behind two dumbfounded boys. Romulus and Septimus both shared a glance, and there was a shared understanding. The pair followed Silvanus, with Septimus hastily taking up the front. No matter how influential the Rowles were, Septimus wasn't about to risk _not_ gaining connections with other Purebloods if it meant Silvanus was going to act this way.

 _Aludra Black_

Luck truly wasn't on Aludra's side, Aludra thought. She could hear a rather heated duel taking part in the next street she had to turn into to get to her next destination. She steeled herself and pulled out her own wand in case she had to deflect a stray spell. She then pulled her hood back up, casting a shadow over her face, once again concealing her identity.

Duels in Knockturn Alley weren't uncommon, to be honest. Occasionally duels would come out of nowhere, and within seconds a previously dark and lifeless street would be lit up with flashes of magic, and the air would become thick would the suffocating feeling of Dark Magic, although, for many in Knockturn Alley, the feeling of Dark Magic was like a warm embrace, or a loving caress from a lover. For Aludra it was the latter.

Also, Obscurials could find themselves attracted to the constant thrum of Dark Magic that flowed throughout Knockturn Alley, and they would often come into the alley, as well as be borne of the already children that came from the alley. Many children found magic to be terrifying in the alley, and would attempt to suppress it. They often made the most violent Obscurials, causing adults to have to host hunts against the Obscurials to subdue them.

Aludra walked into the street to see a heated duel in the middle of the street. A crowd had formed to watch at a safe distance. Instead of the usual silence that crowds would have when a duel was taking place, they were laughing raucously every time a spell was fired off from one particular girl who seemed to be winning.

Aludra came closer, about to weave through the crowd when a hag grabbed her arm, her stiff, bony fingers surprisingly strong and somewhat painful. Aludra spun around, ready to blast the hag into oblivion when she spoke.

"Mudblood," she rasped, and for a moment Aludra had the mind to think she was calling _her_ a mudblood, but that idea was quickly dismissed when the hag pointed a bony, quivering finger at one of the girls. The hag began to howl with laughter and she released Aludra.

The girl had sandy blonde hair, and rather flushed skin. She was slouching a bit from exhaustion, and her beige colored dress was torn and looked rather filthy. The girl was thin, and currently had the look of a cornered animal. The shoulder of her dress had been torn, revealing her shoulder. There, on her shoulder, was a symbol that had been carved in, obviously by magic, and obviously very, very recently. She recognized the symbol to be a symbol of impurity.

Aludra turned her attention to the other girl, and with a jolt realized that it was Melinoe Carrow, or Morgana as she was called by distant associates, that was on the offense. She was holding her wand firmly in her hand, and had just effortlessly blocked a Stunning Spell from the halfblood.

 _How did the mudblood even get here?_ Aludra thought briefly before turning her attention back to her sister in all but blood, Melinoe.

" _E_ _t dilacerant vescendum carnes_ ," Melinoe said in a lazy fashion, but rather quickly, and a sinister crimson light surged from her wand and hit the halfblood, Elizabeth McIntire, and enveloped her. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, but then Melinoe brought her wand upwards through the air in a vicious and sharp fashion. There was an unreadable expression on Melinoe's face as a long, terrible gash appeared on McIntire's abdomen. The girl screamed, and the sound of it echoed throughout the suddenly silent alleyway in the most horrible fashion. It was music to Aludra's ears.

Melinoe released the spell, and the girl laid sobbing on the ground, her fingers clutching her abdomen in a weak fashion, her wand had fallen from her fingers and lay on the ground next to her, blood steadily seeping from her wound and soaking into her clothes. Melinoe turned her attention to the crowd.

"I present this as a lesson to you; those who defile my father's shop shall be laying on the ground like this unworthy mudblood, their bodies horribly disfigured, and no stop to their tears of pain, and pathetic pleading mewls of mercy being ignored," Melinoe said this all in a very calm and collected voice, as if she hadn't just torn open the stomach of a girl. The girl continued to whimper on the floor, and it was obvious that strength was filtering out of her like water in a sift.

The crowd shifted a bit uneasily as Melinoe walked towards the girl and picked up her wand, twisting it in her fingers and examining it, before snapping it, the crack of breaking wood filling the street like a gunshot. Melinoe dropped the wand next the girl in a careless manner, heedless to the girl's whimpers of shock and hopelessness.

Melinoe fixed her own wand on the girl's temple, a look of intense concentration on her face. A flash of green light hit the girl, and she completely crumpled, her fingers falling from her wound, and her eyes glazing over as she fell silent. She was dead, an act of mercy on Melinoe's part.

Melinoe walked out of the rough circle that had surrounded her when she was dueling, shoving aside people who were in her way, not even giving them a second glance. The crowd began to hastily disperse, and Aludra quickly darted through the people, weaving through them effortlessly as she ran after Melinoe.

Melinoe was still walking in a calm and composed way, clearly heading towards her father's shop, Carrow's Concoctions, her light brown hair was let down and bounced with every step.

"Mel!" Aludra called out, and Melinoe turned around quickly, robes swirling around her as her eyes widened in surprise, and then delight.

"Allie!" Melinoe exclaimed, rushing to meet Aludra and enveloping her in a tight hug. They pulled away from each other, and now Aludra could see small scratches on Melinoe's face. She was a pretty girl, as long as you could get past her shockingly blue eyes, and the hollowness of her cheeks and the sharpness of her gaze. Now that Aludra was closer, she could see that Melinoe was holding a jar in one hand filled with shiny, black, spherical balls with the label of _Goblin Eyes_.

"The vermin tried to pull a fast one in the shop, managed to run down a street and a half before I caught her. I'll make sure that never happens again, or else Father will blow up, you know his temper," Melinoe stated at the questioning look Aludra gave the jar.

"What brings you to this crowd of Knockturn Alley?" Melinoe asked as they began to walk to Carrow's Concoctions. Aludra pulled her hood further over her head before answering.

"Achlys Avery has been mentoring me for the past few months," Aludra said, holding up her head in pride," Mistress Avery saw my potential, and decided the take advantage of it. She even said that I can bring Constantine." Melinoe looked slightly put out.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, her steps slowing slightly.

"It was too dangerous to put in a letter, I didn't have the chance," Aludra explained simply, not slowing down. This made perfect sense to Melinoe, who straightened up and resumed her previous pace. Aludra wasn't lying, either.

"Understandable. When is your next little experiment?" Melinoe asked, lowering her voice to a whisper.

"I'm starting one right now. In fact, I was planning on telling you right after visiting with Mistress Avery. Constantine is currently getting supplies. He couldn't accompany me today because he had to supervise his sister while getting school supplies," Aludra said this even quieter, but Melinoe could practically hear the smirk in Aludra's voice.

"What're you doing?"

"Blood Magic," Aludra said under her breath, so that Melinoe barely caught what she said, but there was no mistaking that she had. Melinoe stopped cold, her eyes widening in fear, and a bit of anticipation.

"That's dangerous, it's extremely dark! You know that there are only two families that have that ability supposedly running naturally through their veins and magical cores?" Melinoe asked, her voice barely above a rushed whisper.

"I know. The Caedis family and the Lovegoods, as well as the extinct line of Slytherin," Aludra murmured, and she stopped as well, casting her gaze to the floor.

"I couldn't really imagine asking a Lovegood to help us, and the Caedis family is notoriously twitchy, and they hardly attend any social events," Aludra looked up to see that Melinoe was standing with a strange mixture of anxiety and fear on her face.

"Let's do it," Melinoe finally said after several moments, and they both began to smile.

"I can't come with you, though. It's my shift at the shop with my brother, so I'm expected to be there. When can I next see you?" Melinoe asked as they began to walk back to the shop, steadily approaching it.

"I'll next you an owl with an enchanted mirror, myself and Constantine have been using them for the past few weeks after our engagement. You'll be able to contact either of us by saying who you want to speak too, and if we are in our rooms we'll be able to pick up the mirror, and we can see eatch other. It only works with two people at a time, though, so if we all need to speak with each other we can find a time and place to meet up," Aludra whispered to Melinoe, right before she had to leave to go into Carrow's Concoctions, a wicked smirk on her face. Melinoe was suddenly smirking a bit.

"You and Constantine seem to be getting along well," she whispered deviously, and Aludra, taken by surprise, couldn't help the blush that suddenly rose to her cheeks. She scowled and turned to look at Carrow's Concoctions.

"Whatever. I'll send you the owl soon," Aludra said, turning back to Melinoe and they both kissed each other on the cheek in good bye. Melinoe was still smirking deviously.

"Of course. Goodbye Allie."

"Good bye Mel," and with this Aludra was once again off on her way towards Achlys Avery, pulling her hood back over her head and becoming entirely inconspicuous once again.

 **Authors Note**

 **Oh boy, my chapters are getting longer. I'm sorry you guys didn't actually meet Achlys Avery in this chapter, but I knew that if I continued writing I would never stop. *hesitant laugh***

 **Anyways, one of you guys said that you want to know how to pronounce all of these fancy-shmancy prophetic names, *ahem* so here we are! I'll put how to pronounce a character's name whenever they make their first appearance or mention.**

 **Althaea- al-** **thee** **-** _ **uh**_

 **Achillea-** _ **uh**_ **-** **kil** **-ee-** _ **uh**_

 **Achlys- AK-liss**

 **Aludra- a-loo-dra**

 **Amphitrite- Am- fuh- trite- ee**

 **Constantine- k-AH-n-stuhn-t EE n**

 **Narcissus- Nar-see-sus**

 **Septimus- Sep-Ti-Mus**

 **Silvanus- sil-van-us**

 **Romulus- rAW-m uu-luus**

 **There you have it! Once again, constructive criticism is appreciated, flames are not. I absolutely love your guys' reviews, and they get me really hyped! Until Friday, bye!**


	4. Family Ties and Dark Magic

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter what-so-ever, it all belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling!**

August 6, 1802

Genevieve Black turned her head in the mirror to better examine the beaded choker her cousin, Aludra Black had given her. It was a truly beautiful choker, Genevieve thought as she fingered one of the pearls. It was white and lacy, with lines of pearls hanging a short distance from the edge of the choker. The choker would undoubtedly go with many of the dresses Genevieve owned. After all, white was a color that went with nearly everything.

 _I can wear this at the New Magic Ball before school._ She thought as she turned her head to look directly into the mirror and tug on an errant red curl of hair. She was referring to the annual Ball that took place a few weeks before Hogwarts started, and "new magic" would be unveiled at the Ball, meaning, of course, that all pureblood families would bring their eleven year olds (and any older children, of course) and basically show them off, introducing the next generation of pureblood children. New Magic was a term referring to the newly revealed pureblood children, the new magical generation.

Most pureblood families only revealed each of their children when it was sure that they weren't Squibs, and this way no one would know if a Squib had been produced because no one would know the child had been born in the first place. At these Balls the eleven year olds could get know each other and show a comfortable attitude with each other when they went to Hogwarts.

Genevieve, having turned eleven earlier in the year and received a Hogwarts letter would be one of the main attractions at this Ball. After all, her parents had told her, she was from the noble house of Black, and a Black hadn't been at Hogwarts in 7 years. People would be curious, eager to make an alliance with the Black family through the friendships of their children. She had been told countless times on who to avoid, who to be seen with, and who to seek friendships with for the benefit of the Black reputation.

 _Avoid the Potters and the Weasleys; they can have members with correct views, like your mother, or traitorous views concerning mudbloods. Also, be cautious when seeking the friendship of an Abott, they just had girl of theirs sorted into Hufflepuff, and you don't want to associate with a Hufflepuff at all. Make sure they hold the correct views first. Try to associate with the Blishwicks or the Rosiers. We've had marital agreements with Blishwicks in the past, and I heard that they have a little girl who's showing promise. She'll be in your year…_

It went on and on. She already knew who the more influential families were and their entire lineage, she knew who was less influential and carried less wealth, and she had already memorized the Black family tree by the time she was six. She had been using her mother's wand for all of her childhood and learned as much magic as possible. Then, when she got her own wand, she had a few weeks to practice as much magic as she could in order to ensure she would be on top of her classes. She had learned to dance flawlessly, speak fluent French, and so many more things she could hardly name.

The crack of a house elf's apparition brought her back from her reflection. "Kreacher has been told to notify Mistress Genevieve that breakfast will be held in ten minutes exactly. Kreacher has also been told to tell you that you will be going to Diagon Alley with Miss Isabella to buy a dress for the New Magic Ball," Kreacher said, bowing deeply, his spine looking roughly like a U. He had a beak like nose and squinting eyes. He had long fingers and claws that were cut short, but evidently still sharp.

Kreacher was somewhat wrinkled, but he was still young for a house elf, only around maybe three hundred years old (or maybe it was four hundred, Genevieve thought). "Thank you Kreacher, you may stand," she said, standing up and smoothing out he creases of her dress. It was black with a dark grey corset. The corset had black swirling designs along the V. Not much would successfully go with her vivid, curly red hair that she had inherited from her mother, a Weasley. Black was a color that went with a lot, Genevieve thought, and besides, dark colors weren't uncommon in fashion amongst purebloods.

She picked up her wand that was lying on the vanity and walked out of her room without a second glance, Kreacher's crack of dissaparation echoing the closing of her bedroom doors. She said a polite greeting to the portrait of Mahthildis Black as she descended down the stairs. The closing of her brother's door could be heard and he rushed down the hallway and came down the stairs two at a time before stopping so that he walked next to Genevieve.

Canopus was ten, and luckily for him he hadn't inherited any Weasley genes. His hair was dark brown and neatly parted. His eyes were also dark brown and always glittered with mischief. He was a somewhat attractive boy, although that wasn't saying too much. Most purebloods were attractive to some degree. She remembered her father telling her that all purebloods were attractive because they were pureblood. This was a fact supported by Aludra, the only person who wasn't her parents and brother that she had ever associated with. This was only because Aludra had found Genevieve in the library by accident, and her parents reluctantly allowed her to continue seeing her younger cousin.

"You're starting school in a month Genevieve!" Canopus exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with excitement for her, and a bit of envy. Genevieve smiled to herself.

"Less than a month," she corrected him, and he elegantly shrugged. "Same difference. I wonder what's for breakfast," he mused to himself as they neared the end of the stairs and turned into the dining room. Genevieve didn't answer, for she was stopped by the sight of her cousin, Aludra Black sitting next to her mother, a smirk on her face. Her parents didn't look entirely pleased, her father, Deimos Black was sitting rigidly and her mother, Minerva Weasley, kept shooting displeased glance at the teenager besides her.

Genevieve stood there for a moment, wondering who to address first, when the decision was practically made up for her. Aludra's eyes had fallen on the choker that Genevieve was wearing a grin broke out on her face.

"You're wearing the choker I gave you!" she exclaimed loudly, and Deimos shot a glare at his overenthusiastic and loud niece. Genevieve smiled and curtsied gracefully as a greeting, and her brother made a respectful bow.

"Yes I am, I thought it was gorgeous, so I simply _had_ to wear it and see how it looked!" she gushed, exercising the manners her governess and parents had drilled into her. Genevieve and Canopus then turned to their parents.

"Good morning Father, good morning Mother," they chirped in unison before walking to the dining table, Canopus pulling out a chair for his sister before pulling out a chair for himself, the pair sitting down gracefully. As they did so, Elph, the mother of Kreacher came to the dining table balancing a tray of soup bowls and tea. The elf snapped her fingers and the soup bowls floated over to their respective person, as well as the tea.

Elph lowered the tray from her head and looked up, her large, brown eyes widening ever more at the sight of Aludra Black.

"Elph did not know that Mistress Aludra would be joining her Masters for breakfast! Elph wishes to know if Aludra would wish to enjoy some soup as well." Elph asked in a squeaky voiced rush. Aludra smirked and looked down at the house-elf.

"I am simply here for conversation, although I wouldn't mind some tea. You know what I like," Aludra said before turning back to her relatives, now leaning forward for an unobstructed view of Deimos, who sat at the head of the head of the table. She was a beautiful girl, but she was beautiful in the way a tiger or a lion was beautiful; somewhat frightening. She had naturally brown hair, but she magically altered it so it was black, and it held a little bit of a wave.

"The New Magic Ball is coming up soon; I assume you have an outfit picked out for her?" Aludra asked, drumming her fingers on the table. Deimos picked up his china teacup (this one decorated with peacocks) and took a long sip, ignoring the impatient look of Aludra.

"In fact, Miss Isabella will be taking her to Diagon Alley today to buy her a dress," he said, lowering his teacup and keeping his expression neutral as he did so. Aludra's face lit up.

"May I accompany them Uncle?" Aludra asked, straightening up now, tense, "I haven't seen Genevieve in _ages_ ," Deimos and Minerva both raised a brow at the same time, but this did not deter Aludra. Genevieve opened her mouth to make a statement, but her father noticed the movement and sent her a warning glance that very clearly said; _speak when spoken too._

"Exactly how will you do that? Won't it raise more questions if Genevieve is seen with a member of The Noble and most Ancient House of Black?" he asked politely, although it was more of a statement than a genuine question. Genevieve and Canopus both sat silently, and when Genevieve glanced at her brother she saw Canopus was nearly done with his soup, the pleasant smell of it wafting over the room.

"Magic," Aludra said simply, shrugging and drumming her fingers against the table.

Elph had returned and she was balancing the tea cup and saucer on her head. She stopped next to Aludra, who picked up the tea cup and saucer before placing it on the table. Elph hesitated for a few moments before leaving quickly, her bare feet padding against the rug underneath the table before hitting the dark stone floor.

"You'll only be able to go with a magical disguise," he said. Minerva frowned, clearly wondering if allowing their niece to go was a good move. Aludra herself looked like Christmas had come early. Canopus looked up, confused (he probably hadn't been listening, Genevieve thought).

"You can go. You might want to disguise Genevieve in some way," Deimos said, and Minerva was still looking reluctant, leaning towards her husband and whispering rushed words that Genevieve couldn't hear. Aludra stood up rather quickly, drained her tea in less than a couple seconds, and walked around the table to Genevieve.

"You'll be leaving in half an hour," Deimos said, and Aludra was already grasping onto Genevieve's hand and leading her away. Canopus was looking indignant that his sister got to be excused from the table, but not him.

The two walked out of the room and up the stairs. Aludra was smirking madly, and Genevieve looked behind her a few times, unable to believe their luck.

"The rest of the family will be coming later in the day, I came early," Aludra said as they entered Genevieve's room. Aludra sat herself down on the edge of the bed, casting her gaze around the room, taking in the crystal chandelier, the emerald green and silver furniture, and the wallpaper with various venomous looking snakes. There was a stuffed raven in one corner of the room, wings outstretched and beak opened in a silent caw.

"Hyperion will be there?" Genevieve asked as she fiddled with her wand. Aludra nodded before looking at her younger cousin, a smile breaking out on her face. "So will Constantine and his sister, along with their parents, of course, you know how they're related to my branch of the Black family."

"Why don't you show me your magic?" Aludra asked, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. Genevieve nodded and stood up, suddenly bursting with excitement. She grasped her wand tightly and pointed it at the bedspread.

" _Colovaria_ ," she said firmly, closing her eyes and imagining the color black. She felt the pleasant shudder of magic travel from her core and through her wand. She opened her eyes to see that the bedspread had turned from emerald green to black, and Aludra was grinning, clapping a little.

"I know more, but that's my favorite spell," Genevieve said as Aludra wordlessly turned the bedspread green again. Aludra took out her own wand and placed it on the bed, smiling deviously.

"Watch," she said simply, cupping her hands together and bringing them up to her mouth. She blew into her hands before opening them; a flame resembling a tiger sat growling in the palms of her hands. She was smirking a bit evilly, and from where Genevieve was standing she could feel the heat of what Aludra had conjured. Her eyes were wide with wonder as Aludra shifted the flaming tiger to one hand and dangled a finger over it, the tiger leaping up in an attempt to bit her finger.

"Fiendfyre," Aludra answered the silent question Genevieve had clearly been asking as the flaming tiger shifted into a flaming dragon, its wings violently flapping. Genevieve moved so that she was standing next to her cousin, wonder in her eyes.

"It's extremely Dark and complicated magic," Aludra explained as the dragon became a roaring and agitated manticore, "only the most focused and magically able can successfully create Fiendfyre, but only the best can actually control it."

Genevieve watched the manticore, its anger and violence could be felt in the air, and the heat coming from it was unbearable. She could feel, even though she wasn't casting the magic, that it was desperately trying to escape the control of Aludra. She backed away. She looked up at her cousin in wonder and admiration.

"Fiendfyre can burn down the strongest magical buildings in seconds, and it's nearly impossible to combat," Aludra then, with obvious effort, forced the Fiendfyre to dissipate into smoke, leaving a strange, tainted and dark feeling in the air. Genevieve looked up at Aludra who was smiling in a self-satisfied way.

"Where did you learn that?" Genevieve asked, wondering whether to feel frightened of the magic Aludra had just shown her, or to be awed by it. She crossed her arms and glanced at her stuffed raven, which had just stretched out his wings and closed his beak.

"There are wonderful ancient books that thorough fully cover the subject of the Dark Arts," Aludra stated, sitting down. "Such books are banned by the Ministry, of course, but that doesn't have to dishearten you," Aludra said, noting the immense worry that became evident of Genevieve's face.

"Most proper purebloods study the subject," Aludra said indifferently, "the Ministry has only banned them in fear of the power Dark Magic gives the user." Aludra was sneering nastily now, her fingers holding her wand tight in her hand.

Genevieve noted how some sparks flew from the wand, and the Raven made a loud caw.

"The Ministry is too soft, they don't wish for those with the gift of magic to explore all areas of magic," Aludra released her grip on the wand and looked at Genevieve, clasping her hands together. A hopeful smile spread on her face, now, and she beckoned Genevieve to her.

"You won't have to worry about such restrictions once you come of age, though, because Septimus, he says he can change it all," Aludra pulled Genevieve closer to her, and put a strand of her red hair behind her ear, "Septimus has promised us all that he will do something within the Ministry, and I feel as though he's the only one who will." Silence fell momentarily, and as Genevieve sat down next to Aludra, she opened her mouth to ask a hesitant question.

"Septimus Malfoy, right? He sounds very ambitious," Genevieve said, pulling on her curly red hair. Aludra laughed, running a hand through her hair as she did.

"He is. He's very stubborn as well, and can get very nasty if you insult his family. I remember he organized the lot of us Slytherins to harass William Dagworth for as long as he didn't apologize about calling his mother a 'whore who only married a Malfoy for money'. Dagworth is a Gryffindor, you know, and one of those recent purebloods because his past three generation of ancestors were wizards," Aludra said nostalgically, laughing a bit at the memory and sneering a bit at Dagworth's blood status.

"Why did he ever do that? Insult Lady Malfoy, that is," Genevieve asked in concern, clasping her hands together. Aludra took a moment to remember, and as she did so a Monarch Butterfly materialized from thin air above her hand like smoke, and then fluttered away and around the room.

"I believe it started with one of Dagworth's friends pushing past Althea Melifua, -Septimus was recently engaged to her this summer, I heard, and- you know what, I can show you!" Aludra gasped loudly and then looked at Genevieve, eyes bright.

"You can?" Genevieve asked, leaning forward a bit. Aludra grinned and took Genevieve's hand in her own.

"Of course," she said, closing her eyes, and without needing to be told so did Genevieve. She suddenly felt as though she was being submerged in cold water, and she found herself standing in a Hogwarts corridor, looking at several students in black uniform. Black dresses for the girls, some were wearing black cloaks as well, and black wizarding robes for the boys, although it was covered by a black cloak. Their uniforms had a house crest embroidered in the right chest-shoulder area, and most girls were wearing jewelry that was their house color.

"We were changing classes, from seventh year Slytherin and Hufflepuffs to fifth year Slytherin and Gryffindor, potions class," Aludra explained, and Genevieve immediately picked out her cousin amongst the ones leaving, a girl with brown hair, blue eyes, and defined cheekbones was accompanying her, laughing at something that Aludra had said.

"That's Septimus Malfoy," Aludra said, walking them over to a boy with platinum blond hair and sharp, handsome features, and piercing silver eyes. Hyperion was standing next to him, regarding the Gryffindors with distaste, and upon further inspection, Genevieve noticed that Septimus was staring directly at a beautiful girl with black hair, blue eyes, and rosy cheeks, who a Gryffindor boy was steadily approaching, not looking where he was going. Before Genevieve could look at anyone else in the corridor, something had already happened.

The Gryffindor boy had shouldered her, causing her to hit some of the people behind her, and fall. Septimus immediately dropped his bag and pulled out his wand. The boy stuttered out a short apology, holding out his hand for her to take. A girl with light brown, sun streaked hair and attractive features had made a loud squealing sound, and were looking at the boy in disgust, helping Althaea up with the help of another black haired girl with a smattering of freckles on her face. The boy looked slightly hurt at the rejection of his help, and highly apologetic.

Before he could get a word in Septimus had stalked up to him. "Hey! Who do you think you are?" he asked loudly and rather angrily. The boy was looking extremely fearful now, his face had gone pale and he was shaking a bit now, backing up quickly. "Are you not looking where you're going, or are you trying to cause harm?" he snarled, now putting his wand to the boy's neck. As he did so a Hufflepuff girl uttered a soft scream of fear. A tall, rather haughty looking boy had broken away from the Gryffindor crowd. Septimus straightened up as the other boy approached, and drew his wand away from the shaking boy, who collapsed on the ground in a shaking heap of fear (How was he a Gryffindor? Genevieve thought critically).

"I would suggest you move away from Parker," he said, in a self-important way, and Septimus sneered, drawing himself up to his full height.

"If you were a bit more observant, you would have noticed that I already have," he said in a rather condescending way, having somehow managed to squash his anger for the most part, although she noticed that his wand was spitting little red sparks. Dagworth's eyes narrowed as several people laughed, the loudest of them all was Aludra and the girl next to her, for they both laughed hysterically. Even now, Aludra next to her chuckled.

"You should learn how to control your temper Malfoy, I wonder who you inherited that from," Dagworth's rose his voice, and suddenly a strange sheet of tension grasped the room. He was making this personal. Genevieve stole a look at Althaea to see that she had frozen in place, her eyes very wide. Aludra exchanged a look with the girl besides her, and a ghost of a smirk remained on her face.

"I mean, really, was it his whore of a mother or his rich, snobbish father?" Dagworth said loudly, to the suddenly completely silent room, everyone waiting for Septimus' reaction. Septimus was shaking in anger, and his face was a strange mixture between blank and livid. His wand was spitting several sparks now.

"We all know that his whore mother only married Lord Malfoy for money and the prestige," Dagworth was looking extremely triumphant, but realized after a few moments that no one but Septimus was looking at him anymore, but towards the door to the Potions classroom. Professor Prince was looking directly at Dagworth, his thin face pale and shocked. Dagworth's triumphant grin slipped off like melted butter. A strange, rather demented looking smirk had formed on Septimus' face, giving him a rather insane look.

"N-never, In-in all my years as a teacher have I heard such- Dagworth, fifty points from Gryffindor and a month's full of detention. I'll talk to the Headmaster about this, oh yes I will!" Professor Prince's shaking and rather high voice became stronger and more confident as he talked, now extremely angry and muttering under his breath. Aludra next to her was laughing at the look on Dagworth's face, and Genevieve couldn't help but snicker a bit as well.

Everyone glanced back at Septimus who made eye contact with several, a silent understanding as Septimus walked forward and picked up his bag and walking resolutely into the classroom, a couple of boys that included Hyperion (who had a distinct resemblance to his siter) hurried forward to Septimus, whispering in hushed and quick tones to him. Aludra was smirking along with the other girl, and the pair pointed their wands at Dagworth who was walking very stiffly into the classroom and caused him to trip. The pair laughed raucously and was joined by many of the Slytherins, the corridors filled with jeering laughter. The pair left the memory and came back into the real world, Genevieve feeling a bit lightheaded.

"That was a terrible thing to say about his parents!" Genevieve exclaimed when she had gotten her bearings, and Aludra had lain down on the bed, nodding.

"Dagworth got in huge trouble. He got a good whipping once a day for about a week, and then his parents complained that that was too much. He then had to write lines with a Blood Quill. He still has the scars. Septimus had spread the message throughout the Slytherins in his grade about harassing Dagworth until he truly apologized. Then Octavius Lestrange spread the message by telling Flavia Malfoy when changing classes, who told her class, and then Acantha Bulstrode told Tacitus Nott when going to the hospital wing, who told his class and then told a Greengrass in third year when going into the Great Hall for lunch, and then at lunch the message spread amongst the Slytherins," Aludra listed off on her fingers. Genevieve blinked, dumbfounded.

"You guys were that efficient?" Genevieve asked in clear awe. Aludra grinned.

"Slytherins protect each other, and those were some pretty awful slurs that Dagworth said against Lord and Lady Malfoy. The funniest thing is that Lady Malfoy didn't invite the Dagworths to her next Ball. It was kind of funny because they had been moving up into pureblood culture," Aludra said with a laugh.

Genevieve bit her lip as a thought suddenly occurred to her.

"W-will anyone say things like that about Father and Mother?" Genevieve asked a somewhat fearful voice, and Aludra's gaze became steely.

"Yes. The Mudbloods say terrible things to disguise their own envy of our blood and status, as well as magical prowess," Aludra stated in a cold manner, but not towards Genevieve, she knew.

"When they say things, whatever they may say, I want you to immediately owl me about who they are and what they said. I'll sort it out," Aludra said. Geneviève thought on this for a moment, and as she did the stuffed raven cawed loudly again and in a flash of movement, caught the butterfly Aludra had made and began chewing on it. Part of her feared what might happen to anyone who insulted Father and Mother, but at the same time she thought that they would deserve it, after all, they were only filthy mudbloods, and didn't exactly carry any value, right?

 **Author's Note**

 **I'm sorry that this one was posted later, but I passed out immediately from coming home from school, so I had a couple hours delay on that, as well as dinner.**

 **Anyway, I hope you guys liked this chapter! It was originally too long, so I had to cut it into two. In case you were wondering, yes, Aludra is a main character of this story, as well as Althaea/ Septimus, and another unnamed character as of now. I've got about five characters that the story focuses on, but I might occasionally pop into the perspective of a different character. I'll post more pronunciations next Friday. Please Review guys, and Constructive Criticism is welcome!**


	5. Exhausting Parties and Smuggling

**Disclaimer; I don't own Harry Potter at all! That belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

August 6, 1802

"This is Mistress Giovanni at the door," a heavily accented voice announced, and Aludra stood up, picking up her wand and summoning a dignified and dominant posture to her. She glanced at Genevieve, who stood up and straightened herself up as well.

"Enter," Aludra said calmly and coolly. The door opened, and a sandy-haired woman entered the room looking timid. She was a small woman, with a rather thin figure and bony fingers and very defined cheekbones and hollow cheeks. She had the appearance of a person who had withered away, and she looked like a merely an empty husk. She was wearing decent clothing, a yellow dress with a white corset, and her sandy hair was in a tight bun. She cast one, briefly envious glance around the room, and as she did so Aludra snapped in a sharp and strict manner.

"Address your betters, don't dawdle," she snapped, a certain coldness and impatience radiating around her. Isabella Giovanni's eyes widened and she immediately bowed, the door slamming closed without resistance from her. She flinched and Aludra sneered as the woman whimpered out apologies.

"Mistress Black? I was not informed that you would be accompanying me and young Genevieve," Giovanni stated once she had gotten over her momentary shock. Aludra shrugged and waved her wand carelessly in the direction of Genevieve, whose hair suddenly became held up in a French braid, and her black dress became a rich brown with a lighter brown corset, swirling designs appearing on the edge of the corset in the same brown of the dress.

"Brown tends to blend in better with Diagon Alley," Aludra said in a tone of indifference as she looked in the mirror above the vanity, her own hair becoming pin straight and blond, her eyes becoming blue instead of green and her eyebrows becoming pale blond. With the simple changes, she looked almost like a completely different person, even without actually changing any of her facial features. Her wand had been glowing faintly during the transformation.

"Lead the way," Aludra said, and the trio had soon disappeared from Grimmauld Place and into Diagon Alley through the Floo in the Drawing Room.

Aludra immediately cast her gaze around the Leaky Cauldron in search of the disguise she had been told by Constantine to look for. He had told her that he couldn't meet her yesterday in Knockturn Alley through the mirror that he had given her (he owned the twin), and said that he could sneak away early in the morning to meet her. She had been told to look for a "handsome man with black hair and gorgeous green eyes". She smiled a bit fondly at the ridiculous wording he had used, but quickly mastered her emotions into cool indifference once more.

Genevieve could hardly keep still for her excitement of going into Diagon Alley (Giovanni had gotten her school supplies). Aludra desperately tried to calm her down as she tapped the bricks with her wand, having thoughtlessly memorized the pattern years before. Giovanni was timidly walking behind them, only there for necessity.

Aludra kept glancing around; Genevieve was still gazing at Diagon Alley in wonder, pointing at different shops with gusto and enthusiasm. Aludra looked down at her cousin, who was asking her if they could go into _Bartemius' Books_. Giovanni quietly reminded them what they had come here for in the first place, and was quickly disregarded by the pair who rushed into the store, Giovanni quickly following behind.

"Allie, look! They have a book on the lineage of all the pureblood families!" Genevieve had gasped quickly upon entering the shop, her eyes immediately drawn to _Wizarding Genealogy_. Aludra was about to reach up for the book when she felt the familiar magic of Constantine Parkinson in the shop. She paused for a miniscule moment before grabbing the book from the shelf, handing it to Genevieve who grinned and went farther into the shop.

Aludra took a moment to seek out the familiar warmth and hum of Constantine's magical core. Her suspicions confirmed, her eyes flying open to locate him, feeling him moving around the back of the shop, she assumed. She immediately began to walk over there, leaving Giovanni and slipping between shelves when she found Constantine smirking at her, a book about Dark creatures in his hand.

He had appeared just as he had said he would, neatly combed black hair, handsome features, and green eyes the color of a killing curse. She took a moment to examine him. He was the same height he actually was, which was taller than her about a head. The only features he had seemed to have changed were his hair and eye color, Aludra noticed as she examined him further, although he was holding himself a bit different, in a slight bit of a casual slouch.

"Who am I to be graced with the presence of a girl as beautiful as you," he said smoothly, and Aludra fought to keep her face impassive, the ends of her lips twitching in a repressed smile. He shut the book with a crisp _snap_ and he put it back into the shelf, not taking his eyes off of her.

"Soft, long hair the color of chocolate, green eyes like the deadliest poison, the face of a goddess-" he had been moving steadily towards her as he talked, and was cut off by her slender finger on her lips, a smirk on her face, but at the same time a pink tint on her cheeks.

"Shh," she hushed casting a brief glance over her shoulder, "I'm here with Genevieve, and I can't stay long." She let her finger drop and she suddenly became serious, pulling out her wand from behind her back. Constantine looked rather disappointed, but he immediately sobered up.

"I got the Basilisk blood from a hag, and then promptly silenced her. I simultaneously got Hag's Blood and any other organs from her that might have proven useful in the future," he said, pulling out the thin vial of Basilisk blood, that shifted from green to deep red in the lighting, and then the Hag's blood, that had been stored in a thin vial as well, and was a pale red color, almost translucent, from his cloak.

Aludra took them both, turning over the Basilisk Blood with her slender fingers. She glanced back again and then slipped it down the front of her dress hastily; Constantine looking away quickly under the guise of making sure no one was coming, suddenly blushing. Aludra smirked to herself and hid the Hag's Blood in her sleeve, using a spell to make sure it wouldn't slip out.

"You'll bring the other things when you come to Grimmauld Place?" She asked in a hushed voice, looking up at Constantine who cheeks were still pink, and he nodded a bit stiffly. She grinned and rose up on her tiptoes, placing one hand on his jaw and giving him a quick chaste kiss before turning and leaving, saying a quick thanks as she left, her blond hair bouncing as she went. Constantine stood where he was for a while, watching her leave and pull a book of the shelf, a curious expression on his face.

Aludra walked back to the front of the shop quickly, a self-satisfied smile on her face, and her pulse going a bit faster than usual. She wasn't foolish enough to blame it on the fast walking. She looked down at the book she had grabbed. It was black leather, with _Most Gruesome Witch Trials_ written the front in looping gold cursive. As she turned the book in the light, you could see the shadows of flames in the lettering.

She arrived to the front, now smiling her usual smile, and handing the book to Genevieve, who regarded the book with interest. Giovanni looked at the book, her thin eyebrows drawing together in concern. Aludra was sure she had noticed the effect the gold lettering had with the light.

"Are you sure-"she began, her heavy accent grating on Aludra's nerves once again for some strange reason.

"Speak when spoken to. And yes, I am sure," Aludra snapped, and then turned back to Genevieve, noticing that she was holding two other books in her arms, both about Conjuring.

"I saw this book and I thought you might like it. It's a bit of history about the wretched acts of the Muggles against us," Aludra said, knowing that Deimos would most undoubtedly approve. Not only that, but perhaps if Genevieve read this book it might open her eyes to the cruelty of Muggles and not want to associate with them. _This way, she'll be safe, even if she does get a bit of a shock_ , Aludra thought, a slight bit comforted when she noticed a clearly Muggleborn boy walk in, and she instinctively pulled Genevieve towards her, waiting for the boy to pass.

"Can I get these two books?" Genevieve asked as she looked up, also watching the boy walk past. Aludra nodded, and Genevieve grinned, turning and skipping to the end of the short line, followed by Aludra and Giovanni.

"Walk, Gen," Aludra softly reminded the red head as she summoned Galleons from a handy, Galleon sized pouch inside her sleeve. After paying for the books they went to a dressmaker, who, after half an hour had finally sold them a dress. It was an ivory white with black swirling, feathery designs along the hemline and approximately a third of the skirt upwards. The corset was the same color of the dress with a very thin line of black on the V of the corset and rest of the edge. The sleeves hung about and were rather dignified looking. The skirt of the dress itself was not held by a crinoline, and hung directly down. After all, crinolines where very uncomfortable, more so than a corset, and were strictly Muggle in the eyes of wizard kind.

It was all very uneventful afterwards before flooing back, Genevieve supplied them with unending commentary about everything in Diagon Alley, and her opinions on it all. No matter how much Aludra loved her little cousin, she couldn't help but tune it all out as she found herself thinking about Constantine and their project.

For the past few months, they had been gathering the supplies and knowledge to perform the ritual that should allow them to speak Parseltongue, and in all honesty she was exceedingly nervous. There was no guarantee that the ritual would go correctly, and even if it did it would be extremely painful. Then, if they succeeded, it wouldn't be like being born with the ability. You would have to perform more rituals to be able to bear children with the ability. Not as though she truly cared about reproducing children with Parseltongue, she only wanted the ability for herself, and in extension, Constantine.

Upon flooing back to Grimmauld Place and Giovanni inhaling a bunch of ash, the thin woman sat on the ash covered carpet, hacking like crazy. Aludra stood up with grace and glanced at Genevieve who had already stood up and was cleaning her clothes of ash with a _Scourgify_ , waving her wand over herself. Aludra wordlessly cleaned all of the ash off of her dress and out of her hair, and began removing the enchantments on her appearance. She looked down at Giovanni who seemed to be suffocating and waved her wand several times, clearing out the woman's airways.

"Who knew you were so generous and merciful?" a teasing voice came from the other side of the room. Aludra spun around and away from Giovanni, who had stopped coughing and began to take big rasping gasps. A teenage boy sat in a plush armchair that was forest green and embellished with a silver tint if you look at it the right way. He had brown hair and dark brown eyes, with very attractive and aristocratic features. He was wearing black Wizarding robes now, and had had his long fingers steepled together and his legs crossed. His hair was parted crisply and combed to the side, as was the fashion these days. Aludra smirked.

"What made you think that?" she asked, and she walked to her younger brother, ruffling his hair with her fingers as she went, immune to his swats and sound of indignation.

He didn't answer with a witty quip like he usually did, and instead set to fixing his hair in the reflection of a gold lamp on a small table next to the chair. Aludra chuckled darkly at her brother's vanity, but also knew that if their parents saw his hair like that… she shuddered slightly, imagining her mother's tight lipped scowl, and the thunder that flashed through her father's eyes when he was angry.

Hyperion stood up and his eyes fell immediately on Genevieve, who was standing straight, and shifting in a slightly nervous manner. Giovanni had already left unnoticed, somehow, and Aludra furrowed her eyebrows at that.

He was assessing Genevieve with a sharp eye, and Genevieve met his gaze with faux calm. Aludra had known her little cousin long enough to know when she was nervous. Hyperion smirked and walked forward, bowing over Genevieve's hand. She blinked a little blankly for taking the cue and held out her hand for Hyperion to kiss. She curtsied gracefully once he did, and Hyperion only smirked more.

"Proper little pureblood, this one. You have potential, Genevieve," he said before turning and walking purposefully out of the room, his robes billowing out around him rather dramatically.

"Hyperion enjoys his dramatics," Aludra said fondly, putting her hand on Genevieve's shoulder. "Why don't you put you books in your room and come into the main foyer? I'm sure Giovanni will have already put away the dress," Aludra suggested, and Genevieve grinned and fast-walked towards her room upstairs, instead of trotting like she might usually do. Aludra knew that she was trying to make sure to be absolutely perfect and proper for her relatives, just to impress.

Aludra lingered for a few moments before walking out of the room and down another hall that lead to the main foyer.

Once she entered it, she was greeted by the sight of her parents Pasiphae Black 'nee Parkinson clutching the arm of her husband, Phobos Black. Aludra detested how her mother seemed to be detached, as though she hated being with her husband, or in association with anyone in the Black family. She should be proud to be a Black, and she should have been displaying it as well.

Aludra knew that her aunt, Minerva wouldn't be able to notice how the expression on her mother's face wasn't interest, but simply a shoddily crafted mask. Her father wasn't even looking at his wife, rather engaged in conversation with Hyperion. Deimos wasn't in the room at the moment.

Aludra walked to the fireplace and sat down on an elegant, green of course, accent chair. She accepted a glass of wine from Kreacher and sat back, taking a sip of the smooth, sweet and expensive wine. If she imagined, she could taste the Galleons that went into buying the one bottle. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, counting to three. She could feel Constantine's magical signature had entered the mansion; it wasn't hard to distinguish from the sharp edges of his sister's signature, or from his mother's slippery one, and not even from his father's empty feeling one. The one signature she hadn't felt was her uncle's.

When she heard them entering the large room, she opened her eyes and was surprised to see Deimos was escorting them into the room. She didn't bother to straighten up, and simply swirled the aged wine in her glass. Amphitrite Parkinson's eyes scanned the room, and when they fell on Aludra she didn't bother to hide the sneer that appeared on her face. _Perhaps she believes herself to be exempt from the spells that might fly from my wand because of her brother. If she does that again..,_ her thoughts trailed off as Deimos caught her eye, and she reluctantly stood up. She took another sip of wine before making her way towards the new arrivals.

"Aludra!" Hera Parkinson ('Nee Rowle) exclaimed loudly as though she hadn't seen Aludra in the room, and as if she actually liked Aludra. She kissed Aludra's cheek, and Aludra reluctantly kissed hers as well, severely tempted to accidently spill her wine on the woman's expensive dress. She offered an effortless smile, reminding herself that _Constantine is here, I mustn't scare off his parents from the contract._

"Good to see you Lady Parkinson," Aludra said, opting not to use Hera's name. Hera was wearing a deep purple dress with a corset with the exact same purple color as well as black lace lining the V of the corset and the top. Aludra turned her head to Minos Parkinson and extended her hand gracefully for him to take. He took it in a gloved hand and brushed his lips against her knuckles briefly and she curtsied to him, holding her wine glass to the side.

"Hello, Aludra," Constantine said and she held out her hand for him to take. He kissed her knuckles in a far more meaningful way that his father had done and she curtsied again in a graceful manner, giggling foolishly, just like a lovesick girl with no brains. She caught her father's eye from across the room as he nodded approvingly. She suddenly felt a bubbling feeling of hate in her heart for expectations, and Constantine took her hand and led her to a couch, acting very much like a courteous and respectful man.

Once they sat down Aludra took another sip of her wine, the smooth liquid going sound her throat in a soothing manner. Constantine took his own glass from Kreacher and swirled it around, inspecting it.

"I would estimate it's a good eighty years old. Not too great in my opinion. I don't think that Deimos and Minerva want to use the good wine on such a small little event like this," Aludra said in a mocking way, still keeping a mask of intense interest and foolishness on her face. Her tone of voice didn't match her facial expression at all. Constantine nearly snorted, but quickly faked a cough instead. Amphitrite was watching. Aludra's eyes caught Genevieve slipping into the room, now fitted in a black dress with gold flower embellishments. Her hair was done up in an elegant chignon.

"Here comes our little Black," Aludra murmured and Constantine looked at Genevieve with interest.

"She fits the mold of a Black. Despite the hair. _Sweet Circe,_ the poor girl will have to live in Slytherin house with Weasley hair," Constantine whispered back, and Aludra giggled, taking another sip of wine.

"Watch it, that's my little cousin!" Aludra teased, watching as Genevieve was greeted enthusiastically by Pasiphae.

"Poor girl. I remember when I was introduced to the family. My father followed me around like a dog just to make sure I didn't let anything slip about Amphitrite," and as he said it Minerva came and appeared behind her daughter, probably told to do so by her husband. She wouldn't have been able to pick up the fact that she should track her daughter.

"I'll meet you out in the hall in five minutes?" Aludra asked suddenly, giving Constantine a pointed look as she then drained the rest of her wine and set it on the head of a passing house elf. She walked out of the room, entirely unnoticed and walked down to the end of the hall, ignoring the looks of interest that came from the portraits.

In exactly five minutes Constantine suddenly appeared besides her, the last of a concealing charm trickling away. Aludra gave a start, glaring at him. She didn't bother to state the obvious, only holding out her hand.

"Quick, I can hide them behind Antoinette Rosier's portrait close to the bathing room," Aludra said quickly, and Constantine pulled out several jars from his coat, handing them to Aludra. _Undectable Extension charm,_ Aludra thought as she held the jars, four in all, to herself very tightly.

She moved to walk to the Bathing Room, only to be gently stopped by Constantine. Wordlessly, he cupped her chin and brought her face up to his and kissed her slowly, clearly drawing out the moment. Aludra deepened the kiss before they stopped reluctantly and abruptly. It had been a romantic kiss, unlike the kind of kisses Melinoe had always fantasized about, which were passionate and racy. Aludra thought that she liked this one better.

"Go on, I'll see you next at the New Magic Ball," Constantine said quietly, and Aludra looked at him, pouting in an exaggerated fashion.

"You know my parents won't want me to talk to you the whole time, they'll be suspicious," he winked before kissing her forehead and leaving, looking back a few times before he turned back into the Foyer.

Aludra knew she had to act fast before her absence was noticed. She began to speed-walk to the Bathing Rooms, making it there in less than a minute. She pushed Antoinette's portrait to the side and hastily put all the jars of Hag organs into the small space that Antoinette hid.

Aludra carefully put Antoinette back into place, ignoring the scowl of the woman and began to trot back to the Foyer, the small success bouncing in her chest.

She slipped back into the Foyer and was engaged in a conversation with Hera about the marriage, looking very interested, but she was really only thinking about the kiss, and trying to ignore how Constantine would flick his gaze to her every few minutes.

She left the party extremely exhausted despite the fact that it was only midday, and once she was in her room again she fell onto her bed, allowing her thoughts to go wherever they pleased, silently vowing that she would sneak into Grimmauld Place and get those organs from Antoinette's portrait.

 **Author's Note**

 **Hmmm.., we have a little romance going on between these two. *ahem* Anyways, I hope you guys liked this chapter! I had to extend and edit it a bit to fit my liking. Here's the promised pronunciations!**

 **Hera-** **H-EH-R - uh**

 **Deimos-** **dh EE m aw s**

 **Phobos- f AW v aw s**

 **Minos- MIGH-noss**

 **Genevieve- jen-nuh-veev**

 **Pasiphae- p aa s ee f EH ee**

 **Constructive Criticism is welcome! I always need it in order to improve my writing, and it's highly appreciated!**


	6. The Ball Begins

**Disclaimer;** **Alas, I do not own Harry Potter, but I'm okay with that because it would have not have been the masterpiece that it is if I had written it. XD**

August 13, 1802

Helene looked out disdainfully at the sudden influx of new children at this ball. For some reason, it seemed that there were more here than last year.

The Rookwoods had twins this year, two particularly boisterous boys who flitted from person to person, charming everyone with their innocent wit and utter charisma. They were interesting, and Helene wondered if they were naturally like that, or if their parents had set them up to it.

Of course, the Greengrass family had yet another daughter, looking fragile and modest just like her three sisters before her. Her father, Acrisius grew more and more annoyed every year when people would gaze upon him and his daughters with sympathy. Everyone believed that no heir had been borne of Matrona Greengrass 'Nee Flint before she had passed.

 _The woman had always looked to delicate, fragile and frail,_ Helene thought to herself as she looked at the Greengrass' youngest, _it's a wonder that she managed to give birth to all the children that she did. Before she died she looked like a husk of herself._

She wondered what this one's name would be. _Most likely another "M",_ Helene inwardly snickered, and then turned to face her approaching husband. He was a tall, obviously strong man, and looked exceedingly formidable and entirely unapproachable. He had a thin beard than Helene absolutely adored, and his black hair had been illusioned to look neat rather than unruly as it usually did.

"I think that should be the last of them," Nazarius stated upon noticing where her attention had been focused, and she smirked. She swirled the wine in her glass a bit before answering, the traces of her smirk still lingering on her face.

"Ah, yes Nazarius, but isn't that what you said last year?" she teased, her onyx eyes twinkling with mischief as her husband scowled.

"As I recall, you said the same," he muttered, and Helen gracefully shrugged, taking a dainty sip of her wine and savoring the taste.

"Fair enough," she said loftily, and as the Rookwood twins approached, looking entirely innocent, Helene and Nazarius made identical movements to hide behind their wine glasses. Nonetheless, the boys still stationed themselves in front of them, and they seemed to have pulled along a little Weasley girl with them.

 _Sweet Circe, they're all so short!_ Helene thought, quickly followed by an imagining of Nazarius having been that young and she quickly brought her wineglass back up to her lips to hide her smirk as she fought the snicker that threatened to escape.

"Good evening, Lord and Lady Carrow," all three chirped (with delivery a bit late on the girl's part, Helene noted) and the twins offered them bows that were so extravagant and elegant that, if any adult man had done it then Helene would have been impressed and flattered. But these were children, so she felt amusement along with impressed feelings. The girl offered a very graceful and respectful curtsy that Helene mentally applauded, and then to humor them Helene offered her own graceful and elegant curtsy, a smirk on her face when Nazarius glared at her slightly for doing so and offered the children a brief, stiff nod of the head.

"Good evening to you as well..," Helene said graciously, trailing off in order to allow the children to introduce themselves. The twins grinned widely, and the girl smiled modestly.

"I am Cletus Rookwood," one of them said, his brown eyes bright and twinkling.

"I am Clitus Rookwood," the other said, his lips pulled into a smirk that screamed mischief as he then gestured for the red-headed girl to speak.

"And I am Genevieve Black," she stated softly and modestly, giving a small curtsy and smiling in the perfect amount of hesitance to be considered humble. Her introduction, though, gave Helene a bit of shock, and she only barely masked her surprise with an expression of interest.

"You all look very handsome," she complimented, and Genevieve blushed a bit at the compliment, tugging at the sleeve of her dress. Cletus and Clitus both took this in stride and bowed again, although this one a bit more simple.

"And you look very beautiful yourself, Lady Carrow," Cletus stated, and Helene could sense Nazarius tense up beside her. _Merlin, he acted as though she would actually be "stolen" by these eleven year old boys,_ she thought to herself, half in amusement half in exasperation.

Cletus turned himself to Nazarius, but it was his identical twin who spoke.

"How are you, this evening Lord Carrow?" Clitus inquired, the perfect model of manners and charisma. It was almost impossible for Helene to wrap her head around the behavior of the two twins. Rookwood had raised two very good models for his heirs. Helene wondered who would inherit the fortune in the depths of her mind.

"Quite well, thank you," Nazarius said curtly, but still with the minimum of respect required. Helene was slightly surprised at this. After all, he wasn't one the spare people from his opinions.

Cletus grinned, and Clitus turned around very suddenly, with Genevieve looking very alarmed at the sudden movement.

"Oh dear, there are the Greengrasses!" he announced, and Cletus turned to follow his gaze with Genevieve carefully fingering a hanging pearl from her choker.

Cletus turned around and offered one last bow.

"Well, it's been a joy to converse with you, Lord and Lady Carrow, but we must go and speak with Lord Greengrass and acquaint ourselves with their daughter. After all, if she's in our year we should all get know each other, eh?" It was a rhetorical question from Cletus, but Nazarius still made a nod of acknowledgement/agreement and the trio scurried away, now working their charm on Acrisius for a moment before speaking with his youngest daughter, who was timidly staying next to her father. Within a few moments she was following along and the trio grew in one number.

"Well, Lord Rookwood raised very delightful boys, I'm certain they'll be wonderful models of pureblood men once they grow up," Helene stated warmly, watching as the two boys stopped upon the start of a new song and request a dance from their female company. Even from a distance Helene could see the Greengrass girl's blush.

"Gryffindors," Nazarius grunted, and Helene paused in swirling her wine, the possibility settling into her mind. She frowned and cast her husband a sidelong glance, looking at him critically.

"That is a possibility, but notice how they've been flitting amongst everyone, and the pair obviously noticed how unapproachable Lord Greengrass was and wisely backed down. I think that they can be serpents," she took a sip of her wine, savoring the taste of a century ago and swirling the wine around again.

"Anyone with common sense should do so. Besides, they had the look in their eyes that suggested mischief and recklessness," Nazarius countered, and Helene found herself shrugging again.

"They have potential for both," Helene said, and she started when she felt a hand on her shoulder, nearly spilling her wine. A woman laughed from behind her, loud and disruptive.

"Achlys! Merlin's magic, what the hell was that?" Helene exclaimed, hissing the last part angrily as Achlys came around Helene, a smirk on her face. Her black hair had been put up a complicated chignon, and she wore a dress the color of blood. She wore her several snake rings on her right hand, the silver glinting from the light of the chandelier up above and the snakes twisted and coiling around her fingers, so lifelike that Helene could almost think that they were moving.

"The Lestranges outdid themselves this year. If I didn't want to keep my fingers on my hand, I might be compelled to snatch a few of those jewels. The garnets would go lovely with my dress," Achlys said in a completely conversable tone, and Helene looked around, looking at all the riches that the Lestranges had strewn artfully and decisively around the room with distaste. Helene had no doubt that it was real, and that it was also enchanted with various gruesome ways to prevent stealing.

"It's all a show, isn't it?" Nazarius muttered, leaning in towards them so that he wasn't overheard, and suddenly Achlys became very somber, nodding in agreement.

"Of course it is. They needed to make an impression on the new generation, and they have. They'll always be remembered as the family with a whole world of gold and gems to all the children here," Achlys scoffed now, and Helene began swirling her wine again.

"Well, the children are young and impressionable. The Lestranges set something up for their own children. I almost admire them for it," Helene stated, and she suddenly downed the rest of her wine, setting it on a tray being balanced upon the head of a passing house-elf.

"Let us dance, husband," Helene declared, a new song starting. The sound of violins and a piano filtered around the room like honey, this song much slower than the previous one. Nazarius smirked, handing his drink to Achlys, an exaggerated expression of shock and betrayal on her face.

"Hel, are you just going to leave me?" she gasped dramatically, and Helene smirked as she and Nazarius got in position, but didn't say anything as she and Nazarius set off in a graceful waltz, their movements flowing and sophisticated. Despite Nazarius' stocky frame, he was actually a decent dancer. He was good enough to have escaped ridicule by his mother for if he hadn't been up to par.

"Love, the Potters have arrived," Nazarius murmured, and Helene felt a bomb of despair and panic go off in her chest, as well as her graceful steps faltering briefly.

"I- I thought that they weren't coming this year," Helene hissed, subtly glancing around the room without moving her head.

"Apparently nobody else did, either," Nazarius remarked, giving a casual look around the room, noting how a few women and men had nearly ceased dancing entirely, and other simply had intense looks of disgust, poorly masked with polite surprise.

"I must say, either the Malfoys haven't noticed, or they're very good at keeping their composure," Nazarius noted quietly before their positions changed so that Helene was the one facing the rest of the room.

"Most undoubtedly the latter," Helene replied. The Malfoys were always composed. You could almost never catch a Malfoy with an expression on their face that wasn't graciousness, polite, or simply expressionless. Malfoys were good at the game they played, too. They never completely backed away from someone, just in case they turned out to be someone that could better the Malfoy fortune or reputation. The Malfoys were cobras, whilst almost everyone else they dealt with was mere mice.

"Look at that, the song is ending. Let's go and eavesdrop," Helene whispered, a devious smirk on her face. Nazarius sighed in resignation.

"Hel, you know I've never been great at that," Nazarius stated, Helene shrugged in agreement.

"Sure, but I think you can pull it off," she pouted and Nazarius snorted incredulously. Helene knew that he was right, with his tall and conspicuous figure; he wasn't good for slinking and sneaking around. Nazarius chuckled and shook his head, drifting away to join a gaggle of men that included Gaunt, Avery, and Harper.

Helene began to make her way towards where Lady Lestrange was greeting the Potters, perfectly composed and looking pleasantly surprised.

Helene stopped several yards away, and their conversation floated over the sound of violins and merriment.

"-we're so sorry to have come here so unexpected, and so late! I hope that we haven't caused any inconvenience," came the voice of Lillian Potter and Helene watched Cleopatra's reaction. The Lestrange woman, born Blishwick kept a pleasant expression on her face as she rushed to assure Lillian that their presence was very welcome, and that they caused no inconvenience.

"That's good to know," said Charlie Potter, and a the feeling of ice water traveling in her veins dominated her focus, "I'd have hated to cause you any trouble-"

Another bout of sweet and rushed assurances from Cleopatra.

"Have a good evening, Lady Lestrange," Charlie stated, and then he and his family departed from her, a somewhat relieved expression on Cleopatra's face.

Helene turned completely aware from them and picked up another glass of wine from another passing elf, not entirely sure of what she had been expecting to hear. She took her chance to disappear in between a group of dark haired French pureblood women, and a group of brooding teenagers. She was gone before her brother had even seen her, intent on finding Aurelia Crabbe and Achlys Avery before she was snagged into a different conversation.

Septimus Malfoy found himself to be the source of much glaring over the last few hours. Not that the glaring was directed to him, but rather the girl who was linked arm-in-arm with him, and had been for the last few hours.

It might've confused him if he weren't so un-aware of how coveted he was by several pureblood girls of marrying age, not only for his status in society but also for his good looks. He was not being arrogant when he acknowledged both of those facts, simply taking into account all of his possible advantages and being honest. Although, he would be lying if he said he wasn't vain.

"Septimus, here comes Bulstrode again," Romulus muttered to his friend, just as a girl about fifteen walked towards them, wearing a black dress that didn't suite her, and her coarse dark hair pulled up into a simple, single Dutch braid. The girl wasn't particularly tall or curvy, nor the example of beauty that most women vied to follow. She was striking, though, and attractive in her own way.

She had thick eyebrows, and hooded eyes that were dark brown, the color of rich and fertile soil. Her lips were plump and pink, and she hadn't bothered to put on any lipstick or any makeup in general, but she pulled it off quite well. She had prominent cheekbones and a strong jaw, and opposed to being refined and fragile looking she had the look of someone who could easily hold out on her own.

"Good evening, Master Malfoy, I have been wondering If you have seen Master Nott recently?" she inquired in a tone of mere curiosity. _Thank Merlin she isn't one of the girls intending to flirt,_ Septimus thought before nodding and pointing somewhere to the left to where his cousin had last been seen.

Acantha left after expressing brief gratitude and Hyperion turned to Septimus, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

"I guess not all of them fancy you, Septimus," he teased, and Romulus chuckled at this while Althaea smirked.

"I have no problem with that," Septimus said evenly, and then an expression of confusion came over his features.

"Tacitus is younger than Mistress Bulstrode, why would she be interested in him?" Septimus asked, mostly to himself. Althaea nodded towards the other end of the ballroom where Bulstrode had headed to and was speaking to Melpomene Greengrass, who kept glancing over to Tacitus Nott who was inconspicuously watching the crowd and the dancing couples.

"I believe Melpomene Greengrass fancies your cousin," Althaea stated, her voice quiet and mellifluous. Romulus smirked, undoubtedly filing that information away for another time. To be honest, Septimus didn't see himself using that information anytime in the future, but he still made note of it.

In a flurry of movement, Aludra Black spun over to the group, her face flushed from dancing and wine, a few pieces of hair falling out of her chignon, and an expression of utter joy on her face. She was breathless, and her lips looked swollen. Hyperion's eyebrows knitted together with worry.

"Sister, are you well?" he asked, about to put a steadying hand on her arm, but she waved it away, still teetering a little.

"What time is it?" she finally breathed out, and Septimus rose a brow, somewhat unnerved at the sight of the usually sneering Aludra looking as she did.

"It's thirty minutes to nightfall, I would estimate," Althaea replied, looking out of the large and very obvious windows on the other side of the ballroom. She looked a bit concerned for Aludra, and before Aludra could run off, she put a hand on her arm.

"Aludra, don't you think that you should retire for the night?" Althaea asked hesitantly, but Aludra shook her head rapidly, eyes wide.

"Thirty minutes 'till night, Meliflua, why should I retire for the night if it hasn't started?" Aludra admonished, and she then rounded on her brother, whispering something into his ear. He slowly turned red in embarrassment, and before anyone could stop her she skipped away, drunken giggles following her.

"Your sister is drunk," Septimus deadpanned, and Hyperion, still red, muttered something intelligible and went off after his sister.

"Sweet Circe, I've never seen Hyperion so..," Romulus trailed off, but everyone knew what he meant. Althaea shifted a bit, and cast her gaze around the room, looking vaguely bored.

"You know what, I'm going to find myself a fair maiden to dance with," Romulus announced very suddenly, straightening and walking off, leaving Septimus and Althaea.

"He's going to go after Flavia," Septimus growled, and Althaea shushed him, moving in front of him and putting her hands on both of his elbows.

"Your sister will be fine. You know, she's head over heels for him," Althaea remarked, and Septimus scowled darkly. Romulus wasn't really a problem. In fact, he was perfectly swell as a friend. Or he was, until he started courting Flavia Malfoy, Septimus' younger sister.

"That makes it worse," Septimus grumbled, and Althaea smirked, raising her hand to rest on his chest, ignoring the ruffles.

"Love, do not worry about it. Flavia can take care of herself, and Romulus will take care of her if need be," Althaea soothed, and Septimus smiled in spite of himself, looking down at his betrothed. She had striking, bright blue eyes like magic, and her hair was as black as the ink that one used to write with. It was long and voluminous, and today it had been put up in a half up half down style, with intricate braids done for the hair that had been put up, the rest tumbling down her back in waves. Her skin was the color of expensive ivory, and as smooth and as soft as the finest silk.

"Now come, let us dance and forget our woes and responsibilities in the night," she suggested coyly, a smirk on her perfect, pink lips and she then stepped away, giving a playful curtsy and holding out her hand, eyes glittering. Septimus took her hand and kissed it chastely before leading her from the wall and to the edge of the dance floor.

They got in position and began to waltz, their movements graceful and practiced. Althaea's dress skirts swirled around her in shades of emerald and with silver embellishments, and the two danced together perfectly. They were entirely distracted, lost in their dance until Septimus noticed a stumbling movement to his left. He didn't falter in his steps, simply gently maneuvering Althaea around so that he could see what the fuss was.

Several couples had had similar falters in their dance, and the most notable was the Carrows' at the edge of the dance floor, although Lady Carrow recovered very quickly. In fact, several couples had almost stopped entirely. Septimus glanced around for a millisecond, and a flare of disgust burst in his heart upon noticing the Potters. Althaea gave him a look of question, and he quickly smoothed out his features from disdain to a simple smile.

"The Potters have come, Tea," Septimus whispered softly, as though he were telling her something sweet and romantic, fully aware of how a French girl was watching them intently through narrowed eyes as she danced with her partner, a slight hitch in her steps.

"Really?" Althaea asked, sounding completely unconcerned and she peered up at him through her eyelashes, a little lovesick smile on her face, and the French girl made an audible sound of disgust, turning her attention angrily back to her concerned partner.

They finished the dance in silence, having been one of the only couples to have kept composure after the jarring arrival of the Potters. Septimus lead Althaea back to the outside of the dance floor, and Althaea watched in vague interest as Isaiah Potter flirted with Eve Shafiq, who quickly disengaged and walked over to Septimus and Althaea, a disturbed look on her face.

"Eve, looks like you have an admirer," Althaea teased lightly, and Eve sneered, her dark blue eyes flashing like lightning in a storm.

"Merlin knows that I'd never consider Potter, I'd rather die than be bound to him in marriage," Eve spat vehemently, and Septimus smirked, a knowing glint in his eye.

"Yes, I know you would prefer another," he stated, and suddenly Eve looked murderous, and Althaea saw her hand twitch towards an absent wand.

"Silence yourself, Septimus," she growled, and Althaea sighed loudly and looked around, intent to change the subject.

"Where is Amphitrite?" Althaea asked, and Eve shrugged, her brief anger towards Septimus forgotten. She too began to look around, and after a few seconds she shrugged again.

"I have no idea. Last I saw of her was when she was caught in conversation with Lord and Lady Black," she stated, and then she tucked a black strand of hair behind her ear. Septimus was almost tempted ask which ones, but he knew that only one of the two couples had the right to the Black vaults, and that was Phobos Black and Pasiphae Black 'Nee Parkinson.

They stood in silence for a while; silence that Althaea looked completely content with, and Septimus a bit uncomfortable. He hated silence. Eve suddenly spoke up as another song started, looking far across the large room.

"Flavia has danced her second dance with Romulus," she remarked, and Septimus jerked so violently that it startled Althaea out of her calm mind set and her thoughts, and she glared up at Septimus, who could feel his own blood boiling.

 _How dare he! Before I know it they'll have eloped!_ Septimus thought angrily, and Althaea made a sound of disapproval, whether at Flavia or him Septimus did not care. Eve looked at Septimus with distaste as he began to stalk off to Flavia.

"You're a bloody hypocrite, you know. You fawned over Althaea just as much as he did when you two were courting, if not more," she chastised, and Septimus snorted.

"So? There is still the risk that-"

"Flavia will be fine. Besides, she respects and honors sacred tradition, she won't go off and do anything unsavory with Romulus before marriage," Eve stated this all very nonchalantly.

"I shouldn't have said anything. I'll go find Hyperion and have a dan-" Eve stopped midsentence, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. This ceased Septimus' plots of breaking Flavia and Romulus up and he quickly began to follow her line of sight.

"Morgan's magic! Hyperion is dancing with a _Weasley_!" Eve hissed, and now Septimus found himself looking over the crowd with more vigor. True to Eve's word, Hyperion was dancing with a furiously blushing Ariadne Weasley, a fifteen year old in Ravenclaw house.

"Well, I don't see the problem in that…," Althaea stated uncertainly, a confused expression on her face. Eve rounded on Septimus, and Septimus immediately backed up, still looking at the dancing couple.

"Did you know about this?" she hissed, and Septimus sneered, crossing her arms and forcing his attention to her.

"I'm honored to know that you think I know everything, but no, I didn't. Besides, not every dance means something. He might've just been being generous," Septimus stated nonchalantly, but he still couldn't shake his own uncertainty and worry from his heart, worry for his friend.

"Oh Merlin, what if- he does know that people will see, and that they will talk, right?" Althaea asked, her voice thin and wrought with worry. Septimus groaned loudly, all pretenses of confidence and calm gone.

"I mean, maybe it'll be alright?" Althaea tried saying, "After all, Weasleys are pure of blood, and Master Black married a Weasley."

"There goes the Black reputation," Eve stated in a hollow voice, and she then made a twisted smile.

"Look, maybe we're overreacting, maybe it'll be fine!" Althaea tried saying, and Septimus nearly laughed. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. He was a Malfoy; he mustn't look out of composure, even if no one was watching. Several solutions to a possible problem raced through his head, and all them were solved with cutting off ties to Hyperion. Ties that Septimus _did not_ want to cut.

The song ended, and it was now that Hyperion made his way to the trio, a little self-satisfied smirk on his face. Althaea looked at him with worry in her eyes, and Eve had a look that clearly said; "I thought you were a Slytherin, damnit, are you trying to get yourself killed?".

"Ariadne's a pretty one. Better than any Rosier Father has tried to set me up with," Hyperion said casually, and Althaea blanched, and Septimus' expression would've mirrored hers if he hadn't had better control over his face.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. I made sure to dance with several different girls in order to cover my tracks," Hyperion stated, and Septimus snorted.

"I assure you, once you dance with a Gaunt then people definitely get the impression that you're just dancing around for fun," Hyperion said, smirking, and Eve visibly shuddered, seemingly not of her own accord.

"Good, because I didn't fancy meeting you at Hogwarts with you lectured out of your brain for dancing with near blood-traitors," Septimus said sarcastically, and Hyperion grinned.

"Don't worry, it meant nothing," Hyperion said this with a bit of a forlorn expression, poorly disguised with a smirk. Septimus noted this, but didn't comment.

They were saved from awkward silence when Sophus Crouch came around and requested a dance with Eve, one that she accepted and they were off. Septimus glanced at Althaea, and in silent understanding they both got in position to dance and immediately waltzed off, Hyperion making faux insulted noises and expressions.

Yes, tonight might have started a little problem, but Septimus decided that, for once he was going to let someone else deal with it.

 **Authors Note;**

 **Okay guys, I'm really sorry for my recent inactivity, but s*** happened in life and it just left me really not-motivated for writing at all, but I've come back, and I hope that you guys are satisfied with this chapter. I thank all of you guys who stayed with this.**

 **Well, lookie here, we've got our first Septimus POV. Protective brother much? Anyways, just out of curiosity I want you guys to maybe tell me your favorite character in this story so far? I know they still aren't really that developed yet, but I'm still wondering. Bye, and (hopefully) see you guys next Friday!**

 **Edit; I'm sorry this is later, but I was having a problem uploading the doc and I therefor I couldn't post the chapter. So sorry!**


	7. The Ball Continues

**Disclaimer;** **I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.**

August 13, 1802

Placida Malfoy swirled the wine in her glass, a small smile playing on her lips as she spoke with Achillea Meliflua. Achillea was a very attractive woman, with tanned skin and black hair that was as dark as the darkest night. She wasn't particularly tall, but she her attitude and personality made her seem taller. She had very prominent cheekbones, and sharp, dark brown eyes. She had very precise eyebrows that always gave her the appearance that she was in extreme displeasure. She had relatively sharp features, but not so that she looked like a Malfoy. Her lips were perfectly shaped, and supple as well as soft looking.

"I do believe that Althaea looks very comfortable dancing with young Septimus," Achillea remarked, and Placida couldn't help but agree, despite the fact that she didn't exactly approve of Achillea's wording. Placida took a small sip of wine observing the dancing couple. Despite how comfortable they seemed, they looked slightly worried. Not a trace of worry could be seen in either of their faces that were obvious, but there was a slight furrow in Septimus' brow that wouldn't have usually been there, and Althaea glanced around more than what was usual for her.

"Yes, I believe that she will have a positive influence on my grandson," Placida complimented, not untruthfully, and she then turned to look at Achillea.

"I must also say, that you did a wonderful job raising Althaea to be such a pleasant and beautiful young woman," Placida added easily, her words entirely genuine. She mentally smirked when Achillea's sharp, dark eyes lit up at the flattery.

"Thank you, Placida. I must say, though, that it didn't take too much work to make her as such. She has always been such a quiet girl. Never fussed too much when she was a babe, either," Achillea stated, laughing airily a bit, prompting Placida to do the same. Placida could see that Achillea was implying that Althaea had always been that well-mannered. Well, Placida didn't care if that was the truth or not, but Achillea was buttering up a piece of bread that didn't need any more butter.

"I don't doubt it for a second, Achillea," Placida replied smoothly, and nothing on her face could suggest otherwise. Achillea grinned, obviously comfortable in the elder woman's company. She suddenly spotted her husband coming towards them, and she turned to Placida.

"I am sorry to say, but I believe that I must depart from your company. My husband comes, most undoubtedly asking for a dance," Achillea announced, smiling apologetically before walking off to meet her husband. Placida waited a few moments, taking another sip of ancient wine before turning around the greet the new arrival who had been waiting for several minutes, casually eavesdropping on Placida and Achillea's conversation.

Apollo Carrow smiled guiltlessly, his blue eyes twinkling and the edges of his eyes crinkling. Apollo had aged since Placida had last seen him. His golden hair had dulled even further, and there were the slightest traces of marionette lines, as well as worry lines. His skin looked a lot more pale and unhealthy, and he walked with the slightest, almost undetectable slump in his shoulders. His once devilishly good looks he had had as a boy and as a man were a bit tarnished, but he still maintained some of them. His appearance made Placida's heart ache with sympathy and sadness for what old age had done to him, as well as his marriage with that foul woman Pero Avery.

Perhaps her feelings showed on her face, because he quickly began to walk forward, relying a bit on a cane to do so, and he laid a comforting hand on Placida's shoulder.

"Do not worry about me, Placida. The only thing that ails me is old age," Apollo stated in a matter-of-fact way, not sounding at all disturbed. It only served to make Placida's heart even more, and she smiled very thinly, looking away from here. The thing that disturbed her most was how much he was like her husband. Her frail, dying husband, forced to stay home because of his fragility and weakness.

"I see. What else?" Placida prodded, not having forgotten the worry lines on his forehead. She could see him smile in her peripheral vision, and she then turned her head to him, her grey eyes sharp and observant, watching for his reactions.

"What else? Dear Placida, what do you see that is not there?" he inquired, laughing a bit, but not unkindly. He was only jesting as he always did.

"You can't really hide worry lines, Apollo," Placida answered quietly, and Apollo's gaze turned sympathetic as she began to stare into her wine glass, almost blankly. The worry shining in her eyes could not be hidden from Apollo, though.

"I do not worry for anything about my health. I have simply been thinking lately about Pero's death," he stated carefully, quietly. Placida's grasp on her glass tightened, and she had to take a deep breathe in order to slow how her heart had suddenly raced. Under any other circumstances, she would not have displayed such efforts to calm herself, but she felt far more comfortable around Apollo than anyone one else who wasn't a Malfoy.

"You still mourn for that- that wretch?" Placida asked, her voice tight and strained, nearly a hiss. Apollo considered Placida for several moments, and she nearly regretted her statement. Nearly.

"No. I do not miss her presence at all. No one did besides her sister," Apollo corrected, still staring holes into the side of Placida's head as he tried to catch her eye.

"Then, what do you think of her for?" Placida asked softly, finally looking up and meeting his steady gaze.

"You remember how she died, yes?" Apollo asked, and Placida nearly snorted. Of course she did, who didn't? It had been the scandal of the generation. No one knew how she had died, but it was suspected that she might have been poisoned, or her already failing system had just crashed for good. Her near snort had been answer enough, and Apollo continued.

"Well, I still strongly suspect that whatever killed her was a very advanced potion. Something undetectable, and something very quick," Apollo's voice had become very grave and lowered in volume. Placida took another sip of wine, and she studied Apollo, now thinking of something to say in response.

"Do you really think so? I mean, Pero was failing even before that. She had stiff knees and walked at a hobble," Placida reminded him, and Apollo sighed loudly.

"Anyways, where I was going with it was that what if whoever poisoned her went after me next, or if, perhaps, if she hadn't been killed, then what if her bad genes passed on to Nazarius and his children?" Apollo stated, and Placida snuffed out the previous response she had been thinking about.

"That's an understandable worry," Placida conceded, but before Apollo could even think of answering, a terrible crash brought the music to a halt and the constant conversation to a sudden stop. There was a flash of magic in the far edge of the room, and Placida strained to see what was going on.

"Holy Merlin, is that Helene?" Apollo asked, and Placida found herself moving forward in order to see what was going on. Charlie Potter had fired a curse at his sister, apparently, and she had dropped her wine, the glass shattered on the floor and wine pooled on the floor like blood. Helene had brought up her wand and blocked the curse, surprise and a bit of malice in her eyes. No words were beings exchanged between them, and almost wordlessly the two were brought into a dual.

Placida and Apollo shared a look, and as they did Charlie Potter fired off another spell, this one blazing purple. Anyone who hadn't cleared away did, and the crowd formed a circle around the duelers. Helene blocked this spell just as easily as she had the first, and then in one smooth movement she cast her own spell, completely silent. It was black and like smoke, and when Charlie nimbly jumped out of the way Helene canceled the spell before it could hit the crowd.

"Is that all you have, dear sister?" Charlie jeered, and Helene scowled.

"I don't want to play too hard, you might tell mommy on me," Helene retorted, her words poisonous and as burning as acid. She laughed, full of malevolent mirth as Charlie shot another spell at her. She simply stood and stopped the spell in its place, regarding the frozen glowing light. She then flicked it right back to Charlie with a snap of her fingers and fired a stunning spell to Charlie's right, where she knew he would go in order to dodge his rebounded spell.

He played right into her hands and then got slammed full on by the blazing red of the Stunning Spell. Someone in the crowd canceled out the rebounded spell, and Charlie stood suspended for a brief moment before crumpling on the floor, his wand fallen from limp fingers. Helene looked grave, and she gingerly stepped over the puddle of spilled wine, a house-elf already rushing to mop up the mess.

"If this was planned in any way to try and eliminate me," Helene said, her voice carrying in the silent ballroom, her eyes locked with a petrified Elizabeth Potter, her mother, "then I don't appreciate it." She then smoothly masked her emotions, spinning on her heel and walking out of the circle, the skirt of her dress billowing around her dramatically.

Placida felt the traitorous feeling of unease in her stomach, but outside she exuded the proper amount of calm and composure. Elizabeth Potter looked betrayed, but by which of her children Placida couldn't say. Suddenly Charlie Potter's wife, a former Weasley, broke out of the crowd of people and knelt down besides her husband, her long, loose, red and princess curled hair spilling over her shoulder and then hiding her face.

It seemed that no one knew what to do, everyone waiting for someone to break the tension and do _something._ Anything. His wife, whose name slipped from Placida's brain like butter and had buried itself away, gingerly picked up his wand and then lifted his head onto her lap. She looked up and searched the crowd, finding Octavius Lestrange and holding his gaze. Resolution was displayed on her face, and her gaze didn't waver as she spoke.

"The Potter family will excuse ourselves, now. We will not bother this event any further, and I apologize to Lady Carrow for my husband's lack of control and I apologize to Lord and Lady Lestrange for having caused such a large disruption to this occasion," she announced, her voice strong and unwavering, as well as truly remorseful at her apologies. She then stood up, gently laying Charlie's head on the marble floor. She drew her wand and muttered a quick spell, causing him to float above the ground. She walked towards the crowd, and they quickly made a path for her. Their two children were quick to follow, looking sullen.

Everyone was quite as they left, Lady Lestrange leading them from the Ballroom and to a fireplace where they could floo out. At the closing sound of the massive doors, Octavius stepped out and into the rough circle, an unmovable statue and completely emotionless.

"If you wish to stay, do so and continue as though nothing happened. If you wish to leave, then no one will try to stop you, and such an action would be understandable," he stated, his voice reaching everyone. Almost immediately after his offer had been made, Aloysius Greengrass stepped out into the circle, his hand firmly grasping his eldest daughter's shoulder and steering her forward. His fingers were clutching her shoulder a bit too tightly, and her eyes were a bit sharp, and her lips pursed. His three other daughters followed uniformly after him, the youngest casting a dark glare at her father's back, obviously knowing what he would say.

"Well then, I wish to leave before any more events occur that might harm myself and my legacy," he stated coldly, and sarcasm dripped into his words at "his legacy". Placida glanced back to Apollo besides her, and he looked grim. Helene now stepped forward, with Nazarius standing tall at her side.

"I am disappointed to say that we must go as well. I cannot speak for Seraphinus and Morgana," Nazarius announced, sarcasm in his first sentence. He had never been one to mince words. An expression of annoyance flickered across his face before he mastered it.

"Of course. It is understandable. My wife will see you out when she returns," Octavius said, and he then looked over the crowd.

"Anyone else?" he inquired, his eyes somewhat challenging, and when no one else came out, he too spun on his heel and waved to crowd away.

"Then disperse. Mingle amongst yourselves once again," he suggested, but it sounded too much like an order for Placida's liking. She could imagine that Lucifer thought the same, but when she found him his face nor did his posture betray anything. A little blossom of pride bloomed in her heart, but she too kept the vaguely concerned expression on her face.

The crowd took a few moments to disperse, but once it did Placida found herself heading towards the Malfoy heir. Apollo followed after her, so she slowed her pace to accommodate him. Luckily, Septimus was not far away, and she found him with Althaea Meliflua, readying themselves for a dance. Placida quickly cleared her throat in order to gain their attention.

Septimus Malfoy looked up quickly, and he hurried to meet his grandmother, Althaea following him.

"Is there something wrong, Grandmother?" he asked, glancing briefly at Apollo. Placida smiled softly, and Althaea lingered next to Septimus, some worry on her features.

"No, dear, I was simply coming to inform you that I would be leaving," Placida said, laying a comforting hand on his arm. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and Placida smiled softly.

"Venez, parlons ailleurs," Placida whispered quickly in French. _(Come, let us speak elsewhere.)_

Septimus said nothing, and simply nodded, walking away with Placida following. After they had walked a good distance away, Placida continued in French. It was not a language that no one else knew, but Placida hoped that perhaps it would be harder for people to immediately know what they were talking about.

"De quoi as-tu besoin de parler, grand-mère?" Septimus inquired before Placida could say anything, his French perfected from years of being taught. ( _What did you need to talk about, Grandmother?_ )

"Qu'avez-vous pensé de la petite cascade de Lord Potter?" Placida questioned quietly, and Septimus straightened, answering with almost no hesitation. ( _What did you think about Lord Potter's little stunt?_ )

"Que c'était extrêmement imprudent et mal pensé. Je pensais qu'il devait être né d'émotions crues, pas assez rapidement contrôlé," Septimus answered, and Placida nodded, listening closely. ( _That it was extremely reckless, and ill thought out. I thought it must have been born from raw emotions, not controlled quickly enough._ )

"Yes, yes. That is a possibility," Placida murmured. Of course, she was thinking about what Helene had said. The woman had insinuated an assassination attempt.

"Is there a reason for your questions?" Septimus inquired hesitantly, and Placida smiled.

"Always. You know that, hatchling," she replied, almost teasingly, and Septimus scowled at the nickname. Before he could turn around and leave, though, she rested her hand on his arm.

"You know that I do this in order to make sure that you, as the Malfoy heir, are perfectly capable of taking up the mantle as Lord Malfoy," Placida whispered, and Septimus stilled, waiting for her to continue. The boy knew her well enough to know that she wasn't finished.

"You know, in this society, it isn't all about lavishly living and pretty balls. There is a politics. You need to master this. The Malfoys have a reputation that mustn't be lost," Placida whispered, sternly but not unkindly. She expected fear, or some sign of discomfort to be displayed on Septimus' face, but when she looked up at him and searched his features, she found none. He turned his head and looked at her, fixing his silver eyes on her. They displayed cold acknowledgment, but he obviously wasn't surprised. In that brief moment, he was the exact model of a Malfoy.

"I know that perfectly well. I am a serpent, am I not? This is all just disguising a deadly game, like a cottonmouth viper. Appearing harmless until you get too close, looking like a pretty flower but then revealing it to be a venomous snake," Septimus stated poetically, and Placida smiled a wry and sly smile.

"Good. I must say, I really admire your metaphors. Truly, that is all that this is," Placida said, and then shrugging elegantly.

"Well, your fiancé awaits, and my husband awaits me at the Manor," Placida stated after a few moments of observing the dance floor, and she turned, Septimus following after her. Placida stood straight, and she quickly bid Althaea and Septimus farewell, as well as Apollo. Despite this, Apollo still followed after her, a permanent smile on his face and his eyes twinkling.

"So, are we trying to find Lord Lestrange?" Apollo inquired, and Placida nodded, smiling thinly. They walked in silence for a few moments before Apollo spoke, melancholy in his normally cheery voice. The tone shocked and drove fear into Placida, for some reason.

"You know, you've hardly aged. Out of all of us, the oldest generation, you look phenomenal," he stated, and Placida turned around, a rueful smile on her lips.

"Well, not like I have much competition. Hardly anyone is alive anymore from our generation," she joked darkly, and a bit drily. Her joke was flat, and even though the both of them knew it Apollo still chuckled.

"True, true. I mean, look at me, I used to be the most coveted of all males, and Alaricus was a close second, but look at me now, I've declined, and death only creeps closer and closer with every day," Apollo stated as though it were a joke. Placida crinkled her nose up at him.

"Alaricus was easily the most coveted, don't lie," Placida teased, choosing to ignore the second part of his sentence. He feigned hurt.

"You only say that because he's your husband," Apollo huffed, and Placida snorted, walking a bit faster now that she had spotted Octavius Lestrange. They fell silent, but before Placida could get within earshot of the man he disappeared further into the crowd. Placida huffed irritably, and found their way impeded by a barrage of questions from Selene Lovegood, born Macmillan. _I guess I'll be staying here for longer than intended, Placida_ thought a bit resentfully as Selene questioned if thestrals couldn't see a person until _they_ had seen death. At least Apollo hadn't left yet, but she could see him getting reckless. How fantastic.

 **Authors Note**

 **I am sorry that this is a bit late (again) and I kind of think that I'm going to have to abolish the Friday thing. I'll definitely try to update often, but I can't guarantee once a week anymore. Quality over quantity, eh? This chapter is kind of decent, but nothing really exciting happened, just character development. I'm definitely going to jump to September next chapter, and get into the school year.**

 **Also, your guys' opinions are very much important to me, so any constructive criticism is very appreciated, and will be taken into account. Anyways, I'll probably have pronunciations up next chapter. Until next time, Adios!**


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